


My Life is Different

by Schlank



Series: My Life is Different [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hellmouth (BtVS), Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Magic, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 108,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schlank/pseuds/Schlank
Summary: After Oz leaves Sunnydale, Willow turns to Buffy for comfort, strong emotions flare up, their relationship goes through a transition and Buffy and Willow become romantically/sexually involved.





	1. Thanksgiving

Okay, so the whole “heterosexual girl goes to college and experiments with lesbianism” thing is a cliché. I know that. But it’s kinda my story.

Although, if you had read the research done by Alfred Kinsey on human sexual behavior, it would become pretty much apparent that labels like “heterosexual” and “lesbian” are kinda dishonest and misleading. 

Millions of people in America who are labeled as “heterosexual” or “homosexual”, are actually bisexual to one degree or another.

Alfred Kinsey had a scale that he used to measure a person's overall balance of heterosexuality and homosexuality. The scale ranged from 0 to 6, with 0 being completely heterosexual and 6 completely homosexual. Honestly I think that I’m probably a 3 or a 4, so when I labeled myself as “straight”, that was somewhat misleading and dishonest. However labeling myself as “lesbian” is somewhat dishonest too.

But, am I going to go around telling my friends and classmates that I rate 4 on the Kinsey scale? Most of my friends won’t even understand what that means. 

So, I just simplify it. I used to have a boyfriend, and now I have a girlfriend. Saying _“gay now”_ is less complicated. It’s sort of shorthand for explaining my sexual history and current romantic status.

 

And trying to simplify my life is important. You see, my girlfriend is Buffy Summers, and there is nothing simple about having Buffy Summers as your girlfriend.

She had been going out with Angel, which is complicated in and of itself. I mean, Angel is a vampire and Buffy is a vampire slayer. Can you say conflict of interest? It’s almost like a chicken being romantically involved with Colonel Sanders. Or possibly, like Anne Frank being romantically involved with a Nazi.

At any rate, things started to change for me when Angel dumped Buffy, which left her emotionally vulnerable and feeling insecure and undesirable. She had a temporary recovery when Parker wooed her and seduced her, but once he got her naked and turned her into a sexual conquest, he abandoned her, and left Buffy feeling more insecure, awkward, unloved and undesirable than ever.

Buffy cried on my soldier, but somehow it wasn’t enough for Buffy to make a full recovery.

And then Oz abandoned me, making me feel insecure, awkward, unloved and undesirable too. Buffy let me cry on her shoulder. I let her cry on my shoulder, but neither one of us were really happy. Then, somehow one day, Buffy realized that my shoulder wasn’t really the part of my anatomy that she needed the most.

The first time I kissed Buffy, I realized that she was the perfect cure for what ailed me. Oz had abandoned me and left me feeling empty and hurting, but Buffy would never do that. Buffy had been my best friend and protector since the 10th grade. I could rely on her, in a way that I could never rely on Oz. The fact that she was female was almost immaterial. 

Of course, when your girlfriend is the Chosen One and the slayer of vampires, holidays apparently are different for you than they are for other people.

Buffy and I had intended to enjoy a quiet Thanksgiving, with lots of snuggling and smoochies and chronic nudity, so that I could admire Buffy’s perfectly firm and athletic body. 

But Giles called and it turns out that Xander had somehow summoned an ancient Chumash spirit of vengeance. As the Chosen One, it was Buffy’s job to fight the Spirit of Vengeance and slay him before he killed anybody else. Oh yeah, did I mention he killed Professor Gerhardt?

Oh, also Spike is tied up in Giles’s apartment and Xander has smallpox and syphilis.

How many of you ever had a Thanksgiving infested with unpleasant complications like that?

Once I got past the Caucasian guilt over the slaughter and enslavement of the Native Americans that I kinda-sorta associated with Thanksgiving and the history of white America’s interactions with the Chumash Indians, it occurred to me that you can’t kill a spirit of vengeance. They’re already dead.

So, how do you deal with a problem like Hus, if you can’t kill him?

According to Kessler’s tome on zombies, spirits and possessions, Spirits of Vengeance can only manifest when activated by a talisman. Xander probably activated some sort of talisman when he fell into the sunken Sunnydale Mission.

All I needed to do was find the talisman and destroy it.

Xander insisted on coming with, and actually it made some sense. Okay, actually it was kind of insane for the guy with smallpox and syphilis and possibly malaria to get up out of his sickbed, but I had no idea what the Chumash vengeance talisman looked like, and if Xander could tell me what he touched when he fell down into the mission, it could really speed up the process of figuring out which thing to destroy.

Also, Spike was annoying the hell out of Xander, and Xander wanted to get away from him.

“I don’t understand why Buffy didn’t just stick a stake in him,” Xander grumbled. “I mean killing vampires is Buffy’s job! And Spike’s tried to kill us lots of times!”

“Yeah, but Spike seems to have the inside scoop on that secret group of heavily-armed secretive soldiers,” I replied. “And if Spike can tell us where their secret base is, that would be worth keeping him alive, right? And did I say _‘secret’_ too many times?”

Xander made a grunting noise and I helped him balance himself after he snuck in through the window of the Anthropology Department.  
I shined my flashlight across the room and Xander said, “Are you sure it’ll even be here? It could still be underground in the mission.”

“I don’t think so. I talked to one of the girls in my Western History class, and she said that the anthropology department was like an army of ants down there. They just spent hours going down into the hole and bringing up everything they could find.”

Xander looked around the room and said, “My vision is going blurry. I’m not really sure if I touched any of this stuff.”

I looked around the room. There were clay pots and clay bowls and wicker baskets and some primitive tools made out of stone or bone. I wasn’t at all certain what I should be looking for.

“Hey,” Xander called out with alarm, “Is blurry vision a side-effect of the smallpox or the syphilis?”

Honestly, I don’t know why that would matter to Xander. The Chumash curse was making him sicker and sicker. What did it matter if the wonkiness to his vision was caused by the smallpox or the syphilis? Either way, it would all clear up when we destroyed the talisman.

Then Xander picked up a painted clay pot and held it up to his ear and shook it. He looked like a little kid with a Christmas present, trying to determine what was inside without unwrapping it.

“Xander,” I said, trying very hard not to laugh at him, “I don’t think that’s going to help.”

“Well, maybe we should just break everything,” Xander replied. “Even if we don’t know which of these things is the talisman, if we destroy them all, the talisman would have to get destroyed at some point in the process.”

Xander’s logic made sense, but I hated to the idea of destroying every artifact in the Chumash room of the Anthropology Department. The Chumash people had already been slaughtered. It seemed unforgivable to go ahead and destroy all of the meager belongings that they’d left behind. It would be a further injustice inflicted on a people who had already suffered far too many injustices to begin with.

Then I heard it.

It was a lot like a drumbeat, but muffled and not like any modern rhythm I’d heard from a modern band.

 _“Sssshhh,”_ I admonished Xander. “I think I hear something.”

I closed in on the source of the sound. There in one of the display cases was an odd piece that looked like a bracelet made of human finger bones, held together with a piece of string or cord.

I picked it up and held it close. The percussive beat became stronger as I held it closer. And I realized that I wasn’t so much hearing it as feeling it. I had read that as witches became more skilled in their magic that they could sense things that ordinary people couldn’t sense. It was like our nervous systems became finely tuned enough that we could sense the presence of mystic phenomena as well as physical phenomena.

Actually, upon closer examination I decided that the bracelet wasn’t made of finger bones, but probably the centra of a shark’s vertebrae. And it was definitely mystical. I could feel the magic radiating off of it, sort of similar to the way you can feel a powerful engine revving if you place your hand on the hood of a car.

“This is the talisman.” I told Xander. “I can feel the thrumming of mystic energies. It’s the only mystical thing in this room.”

Without saying a word, Xander snatched the talisman from my hands and threw it on the floor. Then he began to stomp on it and grind it underneath the heel of his shoe.

 _“Hey,”_ I exclaimed loudly and indignantly. If he wanted me to hand the talisman over all he had to do was ask. He didn’t need to grab it from me.

“Well, do you know a better way to break the curse?” Xander asked me.

It turns out that Xander made the right decision. Within a few seconds, the symptoms of Xander’s malaria and smallpox and syphilis began to clear up.

“So, does that mean we got rid of the angry ghost guy?”

Technically, Hus was a vengeance spirit, but I didn’t bother to correct Xander. After all, he had just recovered from syphilis.

“Well, in theory, the talisman should have been the only thing that held Hus here in the physical world. With it destroyed he shouldn’t be able to stay here with us in the land of the living. But I don’t wanna say anything for sure until the sun comes up and there are no more dead bodies.”

*** * * * * * * * * ***

When Xander and I returned to Giles’s apartment, Buffy and Giles gave me the confirmation I needed to make me confident that the Chumash threat was all over. Apparently while Xander and I were at the Anthropology Department, Hus had attacked Buffy and Giles (and Spike too, but nobody really cares what happens to Spike) and in the middle of pitched combat, Hus and his band of Chumash warriors just mysteriously disappeared.

“Undoubtedly, you’ve done them in, Willow.”

That was Giles’s stuffy, British way of saying that I made the bad guys go poof.

“Without the talisman to hold the Spirits of Vengeance here in the physical realm, Hus and his Indian braves returned to the spirit realm and thus he is no longer a threat to those of us in the land of the living.”

Again, that’s British-speak for I made them go poof.

“So, now that Little Red Riding Hood has saved Goldilocks and Prince Boring over there could somebody please pull these arrows out of me? These things bloody hurt!!”

I was kinda surprised to see almost a dozen arrows sticking out of Spike. Apparently when the Chumash Indians attacked, they attacked anybody who looked Anglo-Saxon. Of course Spike is the whitest of all the white people I know, so he must have made a very inviting target.

I’ll bet the Chumash must have been really confused when they shot Spike over and over again, but he still refused to die.

“Y’know Spike, I was kinda hoping one of these arrows would’ve got you through the heart. After all the times you’ve tried to kill me and Willow…and how you’ve threatened Xander and how you threatened Riley at that party, I’ve kinda got mixed feelings about keeping you alive.”

As Buffy talked, she broke the arrows in half and then slipped the other halves out of Spike’s perforated flesh, so he could heal.

“Riley? That the big bloke with the broad shoulders? I wasn’t sure you cared about him anymore.”

“Why wouldn’t I care?” Buffy asked as she yanked a Chumash arrow out of Spike’s thigh. “He’s still human. He’s still one of the good guys.”

“Well, it’s just that you’re shagging Little Red Riding Hood now,” Spike said casually. “The way I figured it; now that you’re a lesbian; big lumberjack-looking types like Riley wouldn’t even be on your radar anymore.”

For a few seconds there was silence in the room. I stopped breathing. Buffy stopped breathing. Xander’s jaw dropped open in a shocked, comical expression, and Giles just kept up with his typical stoic British demeanor. 

Buffy was the first one to break the silence.

“Who the hell told you that Willow and I were having sex together?”

She was still holding a Chumash arrow in her hand when she said it. She looked like she might plunge it directly into Spike’s heart.

Spike tried to keep up a cool façade. Even though he was tied up and helpless and Buffy was holding a weapon on him, Spike had a reputation for being a dangerous predator. It was beneath his pride to ever act nervous or fearful.

“Well, it was you, wasn’t it?” You come in here with Red Riding Hood’s scent all over you. It’s like you bathed in her! You don’t get all covered in another person’s smell by sharing the same textbook, kiddies. You don’t get it by sharing the same hairbrush or the same toothbrush either. There’s only one way that you could be so thoroughly covered in another person’s scent, and that’s if the two of you had hot, passionate, sweaty, feverish sex together.”

I was still too stunned to speak. I tried to, but all that came out of my mouth were some inarticulate vowel sounds, and just then Xander chose that moment to blurt something out.

“First Anya turns lesbian and dumps me, and now Buffy and Willow too? What? Is the whole town going gay?”

Spike gave Xander a long, hard look before saying anything. But when he finally spoke he said, “Normally mate, I wouldn’t give a damn about your girl troubles, but Harmony just dumped me so she could hook up with a female vampire. So, I’m kinda feeling that we’ve bonded. We should go down to the pub and sink a few pints.”

“Spike, you aren’t going anywhere,” Buffy admonished the vampire. “You and I and Xander are not friends, and you’re not going anywhere until you tell us everything you know about those paramilitary guys on campus!”

Xander ignored everything Buffy just said and interjected, “Wait! Harmony just went gay too? So, that’s Anya, Buffy, Harmony and Willow all in the same month?”

“Actually,” Giles began in a tone much calmer than Xander’s, “I was in a wine shop in the center of town the other day. One of the female employees is divorcing her husband due to irreconcilable differences….she’s no longer sexually attracted to men.”

 _“Coincidence?”_

Actually, I didn’t know what it was. Possibly all of these women were bisexual to begin with and eventually just grew tired of or, or dissatisfied with their male companions for some reason. As I said, lots of women are bisexual to some degree or another. 

“Coincidence,” Xander blurted out incredulously. “Will, six straight women all suddenly going gay in the same month in a town this size can’t be a coincidence! It’s gotta be the Hellmouth. It’s an early warning sign of another apocalypse about to happen!”

“Xander, Sunnydale isn’t exactly small. We’ve got a university, a museum an art gallery, forty-three churches, a zoo, twelve gothic cemeteries, a huge hospital, a train station, a bus station, a small airport and a small military base. You call that a small town?”

“Well, not exactly small per se,” Xander began, but I cut him off before he could finish.

“Xander the hospital alone has over six-hundred employees! And UC Sunnydale has about five-hundred employees! And Fort Fremont military base has thousands of people! There’s got to be over three-hundred-thousand people living in Sunnydale! Six women turning gay in a town of three-hundred-thousand shouldn’t be considered a big deal!”

“I could still fancy a pint,” Spike interjected. “My woman dumped me and I got shot full of arrows. That should entitle me to a drink, shouldn’t it?”

I actually found myself starting to agree with Spike on this one. I mean…Harmony dumped him so that she could be with a lesbian and then he shot a dozen times by a bunch of angry Indians…that sounded like the title to a country-western song.

“Spike, I’ll tell you what,” Giles began. “Tell us everything you know about the paramilitary group on Buffy’s campus and I’ll buy you a bottle of Jameson.”

“Six bottles of Jameson and twelve bottles of Guinness,” Spike countered. “I get half up front and the other half when I’ve told you everything I know.”

Giles countered with one bottle of Jameson and ten bottles of Guinness and Spike could have one pint of Guinness up front and the remainder after he told everything.

Spike was insulted by Giles’s counteroffer, and the vampire and the watcher proceeded to haggle in earnest. That’s when Buffy and Xander and I decided it was time to go home. I could tell that Spike and Giles weren’t going to resolve this anytime soon. 

They’d probably be at it for hours.

Buffy and I held hands as we walked back to campus. I figured as long as Xander already knew, there was no point in hiding our affections any longer.

“I don’t get it,” Xander complained to Buffy, “first you’re with Angel, and I never approved of Angel, but at least he was a guy. He had that whole XY chromosome thing goin’ on. But, now you’re with Willow. And no offense to Willow, but she-“

Buffy cut Xander off at that point and sharply added, _“Xander, Angel dumped me. I saved Angel’s life and then he dumped me! When he went to L.A., he stomped all over my heart and maybe, just maybe, I’m with Willow now because I know she won’t ever pull a bone-headed move like that on me ever!”_

I smiled at Buffy, giving her a non-verbal. It was a non-verbal that I appreciated the compliment and also a non-verbal that confirmed that I would never dump her and leave town like Angel did.

“So, when a guy dumps a girl, they automatically turn lesbian?”

“Everybody is different, Xand,” I explained. “When Oz abandoned me I ran to the arms of my best friend…which just happened to be Buffy. And Buffy makes me happy, so we’re gonna stay together. But every girl is different. Not every girl is gonna react the same way. Some girls will turn to drugs or alcohol to deal with the pain. Some will turn to chocolate. Some girls turn to kick-boxing or mixed-martial arts and beat the crap out of their opponents. Some girls just wallow in the pain and listen to lots and lots of country music.

At the mention of country music, both Buffy and Xander shuddered. Country music really sucked and we all knew it.

Since it was Thanksgiving and none of us had eaten anything since Breakfast, we all stopped in at a place called Mike’s Bar and Grill and Buffy bought us all dinner.

Explaining the whole lesbian thing to Xander wasn’t easy. He had had a crush on Buffy even since the 10th grade and to have Buffy suddenly go gay on him was really an emotional blow for him. I think that he thought he might have a chance with Buffy after Angel broke up with her and left town.

And then there was the moment when I got up to go to the lady’s room and walked past the bar. There were two married guys sitting at the bar complaining about how their wives no longer cooked for them because they discovered _“the joys of lesbian sex”_ and now their wives had girlfriends and they were never home at night.

Both guys were middle-aged and unattractive. One of them looked kind of like Joe Pantoliano and the other one was seriously overweight.

“You know who I blame this on?” asked the Joe Pantoliano guy.

“Our wives?” ventured the overweight guy, slurring his words slightly and obviously working on a good buzz.

“Janet Reno,” replied the Joe Pantoliano guy. “She’s a woman…but she’s also the attorney general. You make a woman the top lawman in the country and it causes gender confusion. It’s like she thinks she’s a man. And women all over America see Janet Reno in a man’s job. One of the most powerful men in America is a woman! That gives women strange ideas! Dontcha think? I heard ‘em talkin’ about it on Fox News Channel.”

“So, when Clinton hired a woman to be attorney general, he made our wives gay?”

The Joe Pantoliano guy took a swig from his drink, coughed loudly and replied, “Our wives aren’t gay, Arnie! They’re just sexually confused! And it’s mostly Janet Reno’s fault! I heard it on Fox News! If we get women out of law-enforcement and put men in charge again, I’ll bet our wives ….”

“They’ll come to their senses, right? They’ll realize that men do manly things and that women do womanly things!”

“Yeah! Like what you said!”

I didn’t stick around to hear anymore. I could almost have felt sorry for those two when I first heard that they were having problems with their marriage. But then, once I realized what sort of misogynistic, sexist pigs they were, I only felt anger and contempt.

And I don’t know who they’re married to, but whoever it is, they probably deserved better than these two knuckle-dragging sub-monkeys!  
**  
* * * * * * * * * ***

Eventually Xander went home and Buffy and I returned to campus. It was Thanksgiving Day and it was just a few minutes to midnight and the campus was dead. I couldn’t see or hear another person anywhere. Except for Buffy and me, the whole campus looked deserted.

“Hey, Will,” Buffy said as we walked arms linked together, “There’s still some time left to create a new Thanksgiving Day tradition.”

I checked my watch and nodded my head in agreement. “We’ve got eleven whole minutes.”

“And I was thinking,” Buffy continued, “That it would be a really cool Thanksgiving if you were to walk naked across the campus. After all, the place is deserted right now. Everybody’s cleared out for the Thanksgiving holiday, so where’s the bad?”

It sounded like a scary idea to me. A lot of the nightmares I’ve had over the past four years involved showing up at school naked, but I looked to my left and to my right and scanned the campus in every direction. No matter where I looked, the campus seemed to be completely deserted.

Even with the campus appearing deserted, I was still nervous. My mouth went dry and hands shook as they touched the hem of my shirt. Was I really going to strip down naked on the campus lawn? We were only a few yards from the student parking lot. What if a student came back for some reason? They could be here within seconds and spotlight my nudity with their headlights!

“Tick tock,” said Buffy, getting impatient. “Time’s a factor here, Will. Thanksgiving will be over soon. You gotta do this now.”

 _“You want me to strip?”_ I asked nervously. _“Here? Now?”_

“That’s right,” Buffy said in her authoritative, prison-guard of cell-block-D voice, _“Strip! Here! Now!”_

 

When Buffy does that voice it really gets to me. Before I knew it I was barefoot and handing my shoes to her. Then I slipped my t-shirt over my head and handed that to Buffy as well. Unbuttoning and unzipping my skinny jeans came next, but they were so tight it took quite a bit of time and effort to slide them off of my hips and down my thighs.

“C’mon, Will,” Buffy said impatiently, “Bra and panties too.”

My fingers shook as I reached around back and searched for the catches to unfasten my bra. It took several attempts but I finally got it. Then finally I stood on the school lawn, wearing nothing but my Victoria’s Secret hip-hugger panties with the white lace trim.

“The panties too, Will,” Buffy said, still using her authoritative prison guard voice. “It’s no good unless you take it all off.”

I took one last look around the campus and nervously slipped off the flimsy nylon/spandex garment. It weighed almost nothing and when I handed it to Buffy I felt like a thousand eyes were watching me from the darkness. I’d never felt this naked and exposed in my life before.

“Okay, Will,” Buffy said with her arms full of my clothing, panties visible and prominent on the top of the pile. “You just have to make your way back to our dorm room and you get your clothes back. It’s just that simple.”

Then Buffy ran off with my clothes, heading in the direction of Stevenson Hall. I tried to run after her, but running in your bare feet is a lot harder than you might think. Every pebble and pine needle and tree root that you step on hurts the soles of your feet. I had to slow down to a much more moderate pace and follow Buffy naked and slowly and carefully and naked across campus.

Did I mention I was naked?

I just wanted to make sure I didn’t forget to mention that. It’s very disconcerting to walk naked across the lawn of a public place. Even though I didn’t see anybody, I felt certain that at any moment somebody would pop out of nowhere see my naked body and shout…

“Willow, is that you?”

I yelped in surprise and clutched at my heart. Never in all the years of vampire attacks and zombies rising from the grave did anything scare me so much as the voice of one of my fellow college students greeting me as I tried to walk stealthily across the campus lawn while totally and completely naked.

When I was certain I wasn’t going to die of embarrassment, my brain was able to identify the girl who spoke. Her name was Terri Radcliffe and she was wearing a sports bra, running shoes and very, very tight running shorts. Probably some sort of hybrid fabric of spandex and nylon. She had worked up quite a sweat, so she’d probably been out running for quite some time.

“Terri,” I exclaimed, sounding just as out of breath as she did. “You scared me half to death!”

“Sorry,” she said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “I thought everybody had gone home for the holidays. I wasn’t expecting to see any of the students out naked on the school lawn.”

There was a very short pause (perhaps about one or two heartbeats) and then Terri asked, “Why are you out naked on the school lawn?”

I’m horrible at lying so I tried being vague instead. I fidgeted with my hands and said, “I kinda lost a bet….well not really a bet… it’s more like a close friend of mine sorta dared me to do it…. Well not really a dare either… it’s more like….. Well, I just hafta to do it, but I can’t really explain why, but if you could please not tell anybody that you saw me out here like this, I would totally owe you and a huge favor and please say yes. Yes, meaning that you won’t tell anybody...not yes to the favor. Although I totally will owe you a favor if you keep this a secret. Please?”

Terri got an amused smirk on her face as I babbled. My babbling has that effect on people sometimes. 

“I’ll tell you what, Willow; you seem like a nice girl, so I’ll keep this our little secret.”

I let out a sigh of relief and then Terri said, “Be careful though. I saw the campus police on patrol while I was on my run. Thanksgiving may be a major holiday, but they still do random patrols. If they see you wandering around naked, they won’t be as understanding about it as I am.”

A chill went down my spine as the thought of getting caught by campus police occurred to me. I must have looked pretty shaken at the thought because Terri immediately tried to comfort me.

“I’ll tell you what, Willow,” she said, “I’ll head back toward campus security and if I find ‘em, I’ll fake an ankle injury and ask them if they can help me limp back to my dorm room. That should buy you some extra time to get yourself back inside.

I thanked Terri and started to walk back towards Stevenson Hall, but before she ran off she called out to me, “By the way, Willow, you have got one seriously cute ass!”

I felt my face got hot at the compliment. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that Terri might find my naked body sexually attractive. I mean, Sunnydale seemed to be filled with lesbians these days. Why wouldn’t Terri be one of them?

As I walked it occurred to me that when Terri asked me to repay the favor I owed her, it might be sexual in nature. Then I wondered how Buffy would feel about that. Was that even worth worrying about now, or should I just wait until later and worry about it when Terri brought it up?

If she brought it up. There was a possibility that she might not even remember that I owed her a favor!

Of course, if it had been me who had seen a naked college girl with a cute butt on campus and she owed me a favor, would I ever forget?

Then, as I walked nervously on uncertain legs across the campus lawn, somebody else snuck up behind me. I was certain that it was campus security on a random patrol and I wondered how they had managed to come upon me so quickly, but when I turned around it was a vampire with her fangs already bared.

She struck one of those melodramatic poses, with her fingers clenched all claw-like and her arms spread wide as if she was getting ready to grab me and her knees bent as if she was ready to pounce on me.  
_  
“Willow Rosenberg,”_ she announced in a classic villainy melodramatic booming voice, _“I’ve been following you for hours! I knew that if I bided my time, I’d eventually catch you alone! And now, without the slayer to protect you, I’ll drain you dry! And with your death, the slayer’s morale will plummet! She’ll become despondent and disheartened! With her spirit crushed, she’ll become half the slayer that she once was, and when that happens, I’ll take advantage of her vulnerable state and…”_

I knew this type of vampire. She could go on for hours with the posturing and the gloating. Some vampires are just in love with the sound of their own voices. I was in no immediate danger, but at some point she’d stop with the posturing and the gloating and the speech-making and she’d bite me. Rather than wait for that moment, I held my hand up, palm flat and I spoke the words, _“Sol, succurro tuus filia.”_

The vampire was apparently expecting me to cower or run or faint or tremble in fear. When; instead; I held up my hand and spoke in Latin, she got a look on her face that was nine parts confusion, one part disappointment.

_“What?”_

That was all the vampire had time to say. Then just above my outstretched hand a small hole formed in the fabric of reality. Sunlight shone through the jagged hole and suddenly there was enough sunlight on the dark Sunnydale campus to illuminate both the vampire and me.

The vampire screamed inarticulately as she burst into flames and then she rapidly went from flaming flesh to a pile of smoking dust on the campus lawn.

The vampire had screamed long and loud before she died. I was worried that the campus police would come running when they heard her screams, but they must have been too far away. Man, I really, really do owe Terri a big favor. 

_“Will!!!!”_

Suddenly I saw Buffy running across the campus lawn at a speed that any Olympic sprinter would envy. There was fear in her eyes and her legs pumped like pistons as she covered a hundred years like it was ten feet.

She slid across the lawn like a baseball player sliding into home-plate and stopped right in front of me. The vampire was already dust, but Buffy’s intentions were clear. She must have seen the vampire before it got to me and she dropped my clothes and came running back to rescue me.

 _“Will?”_ she asked when she had come to a complete stop.

“Sunlight spell,” I explained. “I’ve been working on it ever since Angel went on his killing spree. It’s a lot more complicated than it looks. But I think I’ve finally worked out all the kinks.”

“You think?” Buffy asked, looking down at the smoldering ashes that had once been a vampire. 

“Will, no matter how long I know you, you keep coming up with new surprises.”

I didn’t really have a clever response to that, so I just said, “uh-huh”.

“So, now that you’re all big and impressive with the magic and can kill vampires without any help from me, does that mean that you’re not my little lesbian submissive anymore?

The look on Buffy’s face totally surprised me. She was actually worried that if I became her equal in vampire slaying that I’d somehow not be willing to be submissive to her anymore. She looked so distressed. I almost laughed at her concern. She had nothing to worry about. I _loved_ being her lesbian submissive!

“Buffy, I will _always_ want to be your little lesbian submissive! That’s not even a question! It’s the vampires I don’t wanna be submissive to!”

Buffy squealed and threw me over her shoulder. Soon I was looking at Buffy’s shapely, denim-clad butt as she carried me and marched back to Stevenson Hall. My naked butt would be well on display, at eye level as Buffy carried me like that, but I was really enjoying how submissive Buffy made me feel carrying me naked, and over her shoulder like that with her strong arm around my waist.

Then it occurred to me to ask, “Buffy, where are my clothes?”

They were somewhere on the campus lawn. Buffy had dropped them when she ran to rescue me from the vampire, but it was too dark to go looking for them and so Buffy just carried me naked to Stevenson Hall, up the stairs and into our dorm room.


	2. Hanukkah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Willow attempt to have a nice, quiet Hanukkah, however, their plans go astray when an evil shape-shifter shows up in town

So, it didn't take long before I ran into Terri and she called in the favor that I owed. It seemed pretty innocent at first. She wanted to move off campus and found a great two-bedroom townhouse just a few blocks from the school, in a great neighborhood. Rent was only nine-hundred dollars a month (which was less than what Buffy and I were paying for our dorm room) and we could split the rent three ways. 

Also, we'd have our own kitchen and a private shower that we didn't have to share with sixty other students. 

Buffy thought it was a great idea, but we popped in and took a look at the place first. Buffy checked to make sure that the hot water heater had a big enough water capacity for three teenage girls. Buffy likes to take long showers and hates it when the hot water runs out. 

I checked for pentagrams, unquiet spirits, secret passageways and dark energies. However, despite a thorough inspection, neither Buffy nor I found anything wrong with the place and Terri, Buffy and I all signed a lease and we all moved in on December the fifth. 

Buffy and Terri became instant friends. Of course, the fact that Terri punched Parker in the face certainly didn't hurt in that category. Buffy still watches the YouTube video of Terri punching Parker in the face, every day. 

Then Buffy's friendship with Terri became even stronger when Terri revealed that she's into girls now. 

"I don't know what it was," Terri said, all animated and gesticulating wildly with her hands, "But when I came to UC Sunnydale I thought I was completely straight. And now I'm surrounding by all of these beautiful girls on campus and I'm like _'she's hot. She's hot. She's hot too! So is that one. Oh, my God, I just want to throw her in my bed and jump on top of her!'"_

_"Oh my God! You too?"_

Buffy related her story to Terri. Their stories were almost identical. Both were the only child of a two-parent family. Both had grown up with a normal upbringing in a relatively normal home and they had the standard sexual desires. And then they both came to UC Sunnydale and dated Parker and suddenly they were no longer into guys. 

The longer Buffy and Terri talked the more they learned about what they had in common. They both dated Parker. Now they now both hated Parker. They were both recently gay. They were both only children. Their parents were both divorced. They were both athletic. They were both into ice-skating. They're both big fans of the movie _"Heathers"_ and of course they both think I have a really cute butt. 

Terri was a real jock and every morning she would wake up before Buffy and me and do about an hour of stretches and ab exercises and then go on a five-mile run and then come home for a shower and then and only then would she eat breakfast. 

Wow. 

During my teenage years, my main devotion to physical exercise has been running away from vampires, running away from werewolves, running away from mustalid demons, running away from a demonically possessed mailman...well you get the idea. My sort of exercise mainly involved running really, really fast until I could find Buffy or find a safe place to hide. I was nowhere near as athletic as Terri and I was impressed with her endurance and muscle tone and her rock-hard abs. 

At any rate all three of us got along pretty well. We eventually fell into a routine where we coexisted with each other without interfering with each other's schedules and priorities. Buffy and I usually had sex while Terri was out on one of her five-mile runs and then Buffy and I would shower together while Terri ate breakfast and got dressed and got ready for class. 

Buffy and I and Terri all had similar class schedules and we were all back home by six or seven in the evening. A lot of evenings we would sit around after class and discuss how our days went before we got down to studying and homework. We were kinda like a family of three sisters living together under one roof. 

Except for the part where Buffy and I were having mad, passionate lesbian sex every day. In most families you don't find two sisters that have mad, passionate lesbian sex with each other. 

Of course Xander paid us regular visits and we introduced him to Terri. Xander tried to impress Terri with his smile. Also his muscles were kinda big and impressive from working construction now, so he tried to impress Terri with his arms, but Terri just took off her jacket and showed Xander her own arms, which were kinda impressive from lifting weights and swimming laps in the pool. Terri liked Xander and they probably would have made for a cute couple if it wasn't for the fact that Terri was a lesbian.   
_  
"Her too?"_ Xander asked admonishingly. "Will, have _all_ the women in this town gone gay?" 

"Personally, I blame Parker. It seems like every girl that Parker sleeps with turns gay." 

"What's up with that?" Xander asked, "And how many women has he slept with?" 

I thought about it for a few seconds. There were at least thirteen women in UC Sunnydale's freshmen class that I knew of for sure that Parker had slept with. And there were about twenty others that I strongly suspected. 

"Well, it's pretty much a large number." 

"This guy sounds like a vampire to me. Only instead of draining women of their blood and turning them into other vampires, he has sex with them and turns them into lesbians. I think Buffy should slay this guy." 

"Preaching to the choir, Xand," Buffy said as she walked up behind Xander and me. "But I don't think Giles would appreciate it if I went around slaying humans." 

"All I'm saying is maybe he's not really human! Has anyone else thought about that?" 

Xander then went on a long, convoluted, pseudo-intellectual rant on how Parker was some sort of sex-demon. He referred to Strange Tales, Weird Tales and Doctor Strange comics as research sources to try and back up his hypothesis of Parker the sex demon. I smiled and struggled to keep from laughing. This is one of the reasons that I love Xander so much. He can almost always make me smile. 

Terri broke into our conversation and suggested that since it was December that we put up a Christmas tree and decorate the house with mistletoe and a Christmas wreath and other Christmas decorations. 

"Hello? I'm Jewish over here," I said with exaggerated indignation. "Not everybody in Sunnydale worships Santa!" 

Terri was instantly apologetic. "I'm sorry, Willow I just assumed that you were... I mean most of the students at UC Sunnydale are... I mean, I didn't know you were Jewish. You never said anything." 

Xander suggested a compromise. "Well, couldn't you guys put up a Hanukkah tree instead?" 

That made me smile again. No matter how many times we're attacked by vampires and demons and malevolent spirits, Xander always manages to keep his sense of humor. 

"Okay, a Hanukkah tree," Terri agreed with a friendly smile on her face. 

"With a Jewish Star of David on the top," I quickly added. 

"With a Jewish Star of David on the top," Terri agreed. 

Decorating the house for Hanukkah turned into the major project for the month. Whenever Buffy and I weren't in class or studying or doing homework or having sex (hey, sex is important!) we were working on decorating the house for holidays. 

We frosted all the windows and put up snowflake decorations even though we lived in Sunnydale, where it never snows (well, except for that one time in 1998 on Christmas Day). And of course Buffy and I put up mistletoe in our bedroom and I set up a menorah in the living room, up on the mantelpiece. 

Buffy and I decided to invite Xander over to our house for Hanukkah. Terri invited her girlfriend over for Hanukkah. 

When I met Terri's girlfriend I was rather surprised. Terri is athletic, extroverted, slender and self-confident, so I was expecting her girlfriend to pretty much be more of the same. 

But when Terri brought her girlfriend over to the house, I was surprised to find that she was bookish, introverted, shy, insecure and plumpish...not yet fat, but certainly voluptuous. 

I politely asked Terri about their stark differences, and she explained it this way: 

"I tried dating a few athletic girls during my time here at UC Sunnydale, but it never worked out. The athletic girls just tended to be too competitive. Every time I accomplished something, they felt obligated to surpass me and then gloat about it. I don't need that in my life right now. What I need more than ever right now is somebody who's supportive. And that's Tara. She supports me in everything I do." 

And when Terri and Tara snuggled together, Tara got this adorable crooked smile on her face. That smile seemed both nerdy and seductive both at the same time. I'd never seen a smile like that before, but it was probably the first thing that drew Terri to Tara. 

At any rate, the four of us were getting along so well, we all decided to blow off homework, pop some popcorn and do a movie marathon. Buffy went through her collection of VHS tapes and we grabbed some movies that everybody could agree on. We ended up with Heathers as the first movie of the evening (both Terri and Buffy love that movie), and after we finished with Heathers, we'd pop in Undercover Blues and then the Fifth Element. 

I kinda have a crush on Milla Jovovich. I think she's really hot. Tara agreed with me on the subject of Milla Jovovich's hotness, so we already found something we had in common. 

The four of us managed to fit on the couch all at the same time. We had to scooch in in order to fit, but that just made it all the more snuggly. Buffy's hand rested on my thigh while we watched Heathers and that seemed to make the movie more enjoyable. 

We were at the part where two of the school bullies were vainly attempting to intimidate Jason Dean. Jason Dean (better known as JD) was calmly facing them down and I was admiring his coolness and calmness in the face of adversity, when the doorbell rang. 

"Who the hell is that?" Buffy asked, obviously annoyed. We were all snuggly and watching one of Buffy's favorite movies. It was really bad timing for anybody to come and vie for her attention. 

Both Buffy and I got up to answer the door, and we were both surprised to find Spike leaning up against the front of the house with an apathetic look on his face. 

"Spike, what the hell are you doing here?" Buffy asked, clearly annoyed. 

"Yeah, good evening to you, too," Spike said sarcastically. 

Then he took a drag off his cigarette and added, "It's not like a really wanna be here, but I made a deal with you and Rupert, so I came all the way out here to Slayer-land to bring you this." 

With two fingers, Spike reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a mini zip lock bag. Since we hadn't invited him in, he couldn't reach across the threshold, so Buffy leaned forward, took the bag from him and handed it to me. 

I examined the bag underneath the light and said, "This looks like a lock of somebody's hair." 

"Yeah," Spike responded, "From one of those soldier boys. I figure you can do your witch mojo on it and it'll lead you right to him." 

"A tracking spell?" I asked. 

"Ding, we've got a winner," Spike announced buoyantly. "I figure you and the Slayer can use your mojo to track that soldier boy down and then you can ask him very nicely what he's doing in your town." 

"Ask him nicely," Buffy said sarcastically, "You mean beat him up until he talks." 

Spike's facial expression didn't change even a little bit, but I still got the impression that he was amused. "It's your call, Slayer, but I'm sure you'll make the right decision, what with you being the chosen one and the expert on all things big and bad." 

"Spike, how did you even get this?" Buffy asked. 

Spike took another long drag off of his cigarette, cocked his head to one side and said, "Last night soldier boy and five of his soldier friends jumped me. They had their zap-guns and superior numbers, but a sly old fox like me doesn't go down easy, see? When it was all over, Spike got away and he saved that bad boy, as a present for you." 

Spike was trying to impress us, but Buffy had her unimpressed face, and she rephrased the story of Spike's exploits, "So, you got into a hair pulling fight with this guy, you ran away like a scared little girl and now you want us to treat you like you're some sort of hero?" 

_"Hey!"_ Spike exploded, going suddenly from his unflappable calm to wildly offended, _"I didn't ask for this bloody chip to be stuck in my head! And one of these days, I'm gonna get this damn thing pulled out, so you just watch it, Missy!"_

Buffy gave Spike a contemptuous and bored look and leaned against the wall, with her arms folded and in a mocking falsetto tone replied, _"Oh no! Willow, Spike is threatening me!"_

Then her voice dropped back down to normal and she added, "I seem to recall kicking your ass before you had a chip in your skull, Spike." 

Spike still looked wildly offended, however before he got a chance to say anything else, Terri appeared in the hallway and I could hear her behind us, asking, "Is everything alright?" 

I almost laughed. Terri had a baseball bat partially concealed behind her back, and apparently was acting as backup in case Buffy and I were in trouble. Terri had no idea that Buffy was the Slayer, so she had no idea how inappropriate it was for her to be trying to protect Buffy from violence. Buffy was far more capable of dealing with physical threats than Terri would ever be. 

"We're good", Buffy calmly replied, "But Willow and I have something that we've got to do tonight. Listen, you and Tara go back to the movies. We'll get back to you as soon as we can." 

"Oy! Aren't you going to introduce us?" Spike demanded and Buffy gave him a reproachful look. 

Buffy gave Spike a contemptuous look and said, "I don't think so." 

"What?" Spike asked, "So you go off to college and now you're old friends aren't good enough for you anymore? Is that it? Bloody arrogant, that is." 

Buffy groaned and rolled her eyes and gave in, "Fine!" she said, "Terri, this is Spike, he's a swaggering annoyance. Spike, this is Terri, she's a friend of mine and we live together now." 

Spike tried to give Terri a charismatic smile and he said, "Don't listen to her love, I'm more charming than I am annoying, and I only swagger because I'm swagger-worthy." 

Terri laughed at him playfully and said, "Yeah, I'm sure." 

Terri and Spike traded verbal barbs while I went inside and got everything I needed to do a tracking spell. 

Other than the hair, I didn't need much. In order for a tracking spell to work, I just needed to create a magical link between the hair that Spike had delivered and the hair on that guy's head. Summoning magic is easier than focusing it, so most practitioners have some sort of focus, to channel the magic in a specific direction or purpose. 

A focus is typically a specialized tool applicable to a narrow scope and direction of your magic. I learned through trial and error that silver nipple clips on a short silver chain made and excellent focus for tracking spells. 

I secured the lock of hair in the tight jaws of one of the silver clips and fed power into the link between the lock of hair and the guy that it came from. I kept a continuous trickle of energy between the two and the lock of hair felt itself being tugged in the direction of the guy. The nipple clamps and the silver chain helped focus on that the nipple clip and the chain darted suddenly in a southerly direction and very nearly yanked itself out of my hand. 

I walked down the hall and passed Terri and heard her ask, "Are those nipple clamps?" as I followed in the direction where the tracking spell led me. 

"Um, sort of," I replied, now somewhat embarrassed that Terri now knew I owned a pair of nipple clamps. I suppose I should have waited until I was well away from the house before I did my tracking spell. 

 

"Why do you own nipple clamps?" I heard Terri ask as I walked out of the house and I dreaded the idea that eventually I might have to answer her question. 

Buffy ordered Spike to come with us, and as I followed the lock of hair wherever the tracking spell directed me, I heard Spike behind me, asking, "Hey, are those things nipple clamps?" 

Seriously, I needed to put some more thought into what I used for foci. Nipple clamps were a great focus for tracking spells, but it could be really embarrassing when people found out you owned them. 

Buffy and I ignored Spike's question, but Spike was as persistent as he was annoying. 

"Seriously, which one of you has had those things dangling from your pink little nips?" Spike asked, causing me to feel feverish and miserable with embarrassment, "It had to be one of you, right? I mean, you didn't just buy them for tracking spells, am I right?" 

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy commanded, but Spike (as per usual) didn't feel like listening. 

"Which one of you is it, anyway?" Spike asked, "My money is on the witch, I mean I've always kind of suspected that underneath that innocent, Disney-cartoon-character exterior, there were some really kinky, hidden desires just waiting to be brought to the surface." 

Spike's annoying harangue was getting on my nerves and making it hard to concentrate on my tracking spell, and I think Buffy ended up hitting Spike several times to get him to be quiet. I must say, I approved of Buffy's methods, as several times Spike's tenacious oration caused me to lose my concentration and I had to recast my spell, however, eventually I found out where Spike's hair-pulling opponent was hiding out. 

In the charred remains of Sunnydale High School. 

"He's in there?" Buffy said with an air of disapproval. 

"According to the spell," I answered, not too happy to be wandering through the blackened halls of my old high school either. 

"Seriously," Buffy said, her tone bitter, "I thought I was done with high school." 

"Just when you think you're out, they pull you back in," I said, and continued to follow in the direction of the tracking spell. 

"Does every school you go to turn into a pile of ashes and charred bricks?" Spike asked. 

"I heard about how you got kicked out of your school in Los Angeles after you burnt that thing to the bloody ground," Spike added, "Are you part feveris demon or what?" 

"Okay, first of all," Buffy said sharply, possibly hitting Spike again, "It wasn't the entire school, it was just the gym, and secondly, I had a really good reason for burning the gym down." 

As Spike and Buffy argued, I followed deeper and deeper into the school, following wherever the tracking spell led me, eventually I ended up in charred classroom with a door that was almost entirely incinerated and a dead body lying on the sooty, blackened floor. 

"According to the tracking spell, this is the guy that Spike tussled with," I said, "The lock of hair belongs to him." 

"He looks really dead," Buffy said. 

"Good luck getting him to tell you anything," Spike said deadpan and pulled his cigarette out of his mouth. It had very nearly burned down to the filter and Spike didn't seem to be interested in smoking it anymore. 

"His neck looks broken," Buffy observed, "Did you do this?" 

_"Me?"_ Spike asked indignantly, "I can't go around breaking necks with this chip in my head! I can't even hit people! Somebody else must've done him in." 

"I know this guy," I said as I squatted down and got a close look at his face, "He was a student in Professor Walsh's class. His name was Chet Manning...or Chip Manning... Or something like that." 

"Doesn't sound like you knew him very well," Spike said disapprovingly. 

"All I need to do is check the student database," I snapped, "I'll find his name and then we'll alert somebody in the school administration that he's dead." 

Then an inspiration came to me. If we went to his funeral, we could see who else showed up. The odds were very good that other secret paramilitary guys would show up for Chip's funeral. 

"Oh, no," A confident male voice said from behind Buffy, Spike and me, "I can't allow you to do that." 

Almost in unison, Buffy, Spike and I turned to see who had snuck up on us. The light in the classroom wasn't very good, but even in the dim lighting, I could see that the guy looked exactly like Chip. Not just similar to Chip, but identical, like as if he were an identical twin. 

"Oh, bloody hell," Spike exclaimed, apparently noticing the intruder's identical appearance to the dead guy at our feet. 

"If you tell people that Chip Manning is dead, it's going to ruin all my carefully laid plans, and I really can't have that," the sinister newcomer said. 

And then he favored us with a grin that displayed lots of perfectly, straight, white teeth. 

According to my math, everything about this guy added up to equal bad guy. He was smiling happily while standing just a few yards away from a freshly killed corpse, he was telling Buffy and I what to do and he had _"carefully laid plans"_ that involved hiding a dead body. 

Also, his identical appearance to Chip probably meant he was some sort of shape-shifter, or possibly an evil robot, or maybe a vampire version of Chip conjured up from an alternate timeline. 

"No offense," said Buffy taking two steps closer to Chip's doppelganger, "but you're on my turf, and if anybody's going to be making carefully laid plans, it's going to be me." 

My chest kinda felt like it was swelling with pride when Buffy said that. She was so brave and heroic. And even though we were both the same height, she seemed like she stood at least six feet tall when she said stuff like that. 

"Such overconfidence," Chip's doppelganger said, "I like that in an opponent. It's amusing." 

He was still grinning that disconcerting grin when he darted forward with superhuman speed and grabbed for Buffy's throat. Buffy did a series of backflips that propelled her backwards at superhuman speed. 

Buffy's maneuver prevented the doppelganger from grabbing her throat, however his hands changed as he lunged forward and grew some sort of sharp, inhuman-looking claws. When both Buffy and the doppelganger paused, I saw that Buffy's jeans had been ripped in three places and three incisions down one of her shapely thighs. 

Once I saw that this guy had wounded Buffy, my heart began to beat painfully fast in my chest. Buffy has a lot of enemies, however she's usually too strong, too fast and too resourceful to allow any of her enemies to wound her in combat. Apparently Chip's doppelganger was a bigger threat than most of the things Buffy ran up against. 

Spike didn't seem the least bit upset about the threat that Chip's doppelganger presented and indeed, seemed rather thrilled with the situation. 

_"Yeah, Big guy! Kick her ass!"_ Spike shouted and pumped one fist in the air, pretty much like he was a football fan, cheering on his favorite team. 

The doppelganger didn't seem to share Spike's sense of solidarity. Ignoring Buffy for the moment, the doppelganger spun in Spike's direction and punched Spike in the midsection. He moved so fast, you would have missed the entire thing if you weren't watching intently. 

Spike let out a startled _whuff_ as the inhumanly fast fist slammed into him, knocking him back and sending him flying until he hit the wall on the south side of the classroom. When Spike's body hit the wall, it was with so much force that I think every wall in the school shook. 

Spike collapsed to the floor, annoyed, but not visibly afraid. Spike was over a hundred years old and had battled plenty of dangerous opponents. He didn't scare easily. 

Then he gave the doppelganger an intensely annoyed look and exclaimed, _"Oh, very nice! I was on your side!"_

"The three of you aren't exactly human, are you?" the doppelganger asked in a creepy, inquisition tone, "What fun. I do believe that this will make your deaths more entertaining. Please, do attempt to put up a spirited fight." 

While the doppelganger had been directing his attentions at Spike, Buffy had apparently managed to improvise a weapon with some of the debris in the classroom. With the doppelganger attention focused on Spike, Buffy swung a galvanized iron pipe across the back of his skull. There was a satisfying thunk sound when iron pipe smashed into the back of the doppelganger's skull, and an even more satisfying bellow of inhuman pain from the doppelganger's lips, however the doppelganger didn't even stagger under the blow. He barely even flinched.   
_  
"Naaʼahóóhai,"_ the doppelganger swore at Buffy, then he swung his clawed hand around to backhand Buffy across the face. 

Buffy raised the iron pipe up in a reflexive attempt to parry the blow and she managed to protect her face, however the doppelganger's backhand hit with such force that it knocked the iron pipe out of her hands. 

As the iron pipe clattered to the floor, Buffy kicked the doppelganger in the solar plexus. This caused him to double over and make an _oof_ sound, however within an instant he counterattacked, claws out, aiming to rip a hole in her ribcage. 

Buffy's reflexes are superhuman-fast and she evaded the brunt of the blow, although he tore her shirt open and left four ugly lacerations across her flat belly and her ribcage. He had made Buffy bleed again and I was starting to get really worried. 

And then; without warning; Spike picked up an entire filing cabinet, lifted it up high and brought it down with extraordinary force across the back of the doppelganger's skull. There was a deafening sound of thunderous impact as the metal structure of the filing cabinet buckled, crumpled and twisted upon violent impact with skull, spine and shoulders of our inhuman opponent. 

"Bloody amateurs," Spike exclaimed when the doppelganger lay prostrate on the floor, apparently defeated. 

"Kick her ass?" Buffy asked, looking annoyed and raising an eyebrow at Spike. 

"Yeah, well, we're not exactly friends, are we?" Spike asked. "This bloody chip in my head means I can't hit you, but I'm still a bloody vampire, and you're still a slayer. It's only natural for me to want to see you get your ass handed to you." 

And then, even though I was incensed by Spike's attitude towards my girlfriend, that's when the big revelation hit me. 

"Spike, the chip," I said excitedly, the science-nerd part of my brain taking over. 

"Yeah?" 

"You bludgeoned that shape-shifter to death and the chip didn't do anything. I think maybe the chip is only designed to keep you from hurting humans." 

For a long time, Spike didn't say anything. He just stared at me with big, thoughtful eyes. Then he looked down at the doppelganger and smiled. His smile wasn't as creepy at the doppelganger's smile, but it still looked abnormal and disturbing. 

_"I can hit a demon,"_ Spike said reverently. He said it with such awe in his voice, he seemed almost like a holy man who had just met his deity face-to-face. 

For a few seconds, Spike looked so happy I could almost believe that a vampire and a vampire-slayer could be friends. Spike jumped ups and down, lifted his arms up above his head as if he had just scored a touchdown and screamed something about not being neutered anymore. I'd never seen him emoting with this much joy and enthusiasm before. 

And then, all hell broke loose. 

Much to our surprise, the doppelganger wasn't really dead. He wasn't even really wounded. And when he resumed moving, he moved with inhuman speed. He grabbed the twisted, metal debris that was once a filing cabinet and hurled it at Spike like a missile. 

The impact knocked Spike a good ten feet across the room. 

Buffy immediately snatched up the iron pipe and held it up like a club, intent on using it as a weapon. Buffy was wounded and bleeding, and the doppelganger was crazy-strong, but Buffy was still defiant in the face of danger. 

Apparently Spike intended to be defiant in the face of danger, too. He hurled himself at the doppelganger and grappled with him. He got an iron-like grip around the shape-shifter's shoulders and the back of his neck and held him in a full nelson. 

"Let's see you use those funky claws of yours now," Spike said defiantly as he yanked back, forcing his opponent to arch his back and look up at the ceiling. 

Buffy sprang forward to take advantage of the doppelganger's partial immobility, however before she could hit him with her pipe, the doppelganger changed. 

It was a freakish sight to see. The doppelganger's neck, skull, shoulders and arms all increased in size, while his lower body remained unchanged. There was such a wrongness and such a lack of symmetry to this creature, it seemed like something from a lunatic's nightmare. And then it looked at me with its grotesquely large eyeballs and said, _"After I kill them, you're next."_

Buffy screamed and charged the doppelganger, however the doppelganger broke free from Spike's grip and then used Spike like a club. He held Spike by one of his wrists and swung Spike from left to right, bludgeoning Buffy with Spike's body. 

I had never seen a villain pick up an opponent and use him as a weapon to beat another opponent, but apparently this creature could do it. Spike struggled, but he was helpless to break free from this thing's grip. 

Buffy deftly maneuvered out of the doppelganger's range, but then the doppelganger just threw Spike at her and before Buffy could react, Spike slammed into her like a guided missile and she and Spike went down in a tumble of arms and legs. 

Neither one of them got up after they hit the floor, and without Spike or Buffy to worry about, the doppelganger gave me a look of malicious intent and I only had a few seconds to make a decision. 

I looked over at the recumbent figures of Buffy and Spike, raised a shaky hand and shouted, _"Effugio!"_

Instantly a portal opened up in the fabric of reality. I had no idea where the portal would lead, but wherever it led, it would have to be better than where I was. Buffy and Spike got drawn into the portal first because I formed the portal directly around them, then I hurriedly lept into it with Buffy and shut the spell down so that the doppelganger wouldn't be able to follow us. 

I'm pretty sure I could hear the sound of the doppelganger screaming in rage and frustration as the portal closed.   
**  
* * * * * * * * ***

The portal closed up, and I found myself outdoors, underneath a moonlit sky on what looked like some sort of dirt path with Buffy and Spike laying at my feet. Both Buffy and Spike were unconscious and the claw marks on Buffy's thigh and torso looked awfully deep. Her shirt and her jeans were both stained with disturbingly large amounts of her own blood. 

I had no idea where we were. I didn't see any signs anywhere to indicate where we landed. The portal spell could have taken us anywhere on the planet. For all I knew, we could be in Brazil or Uganda or Mexico. I was hoping that we ended up somewhere that the locals spoke a certain amount of English, on account of I never really mastered any foreign languages, and Buffy was pretty badly wounded. Asking for help in Bantu, Portuguese or Spanish would be pretty difficult when the only language I've ever really mastered is English. 

Then I heard a woman's voice excitedly exclaim, _"Oh my God! That was awesome!!"_

Okay, that was a good sign. That totally sounded like English. 

I looked up the dirt path and a woman emerged from the darkness. She was wearing hiking boots, had a hiking stick and just generally looked like she was fixed for hiking. She also had a look of rapt fascination on her face. 

"You just appeared out of nowhere," the woman said wildly, "That was _incredible!_ There was a bright light and suddenly there you were! Are you a wizard or something?" 

"Um, hi," I said, taken somewhat aback by this woman's enthusiasm. I hadn't considered the possibility of someone actually seeing the portal open when Buffy and I came out. "Yeah, something like that." 

Then I added, "Listen my friend here is wounded and I really need to get her someplace where I can see how her injuries are and maybe bandage her up." 

The woman reached into her pack and pulled out a flashlight that was smaller than my fist and shined it down on the ground near my feet. She saw Buffy and Spike lying there unconscious. Buffy's clothes had been torn up really bad and there was a lot of blood where the doppelganger had clawed at her. 

She gasped and then she asked, "Is she a wizard too?" 

"No, she's not," I answered. "Look, she's not a wizard, but she's one of the good guys, and I don't want her to die, okay? Can you help me move her and get her to a hospital?" 

"Sure, I can help," the woman replied. "What about the guy on the ground next to her? Is he one of the good guys too? Or is he the one who gave her all of those cuts?" 

I had to think about that for a few seconds. Was Spike a good guy? He had tried to kill both Buffy and me several times, however he had changed significantly ever since that chip had been put into his head. 

"That's a hard question to answer," I replied. "He used to be a bad guy, but now his status is a little confusing. He's helped us a few times." 

Eventually we decided to move both Buffy and Spike. 

The woman's name was Justine and she had a pickup truck parked about three-hundred yards from where my portal had opened up. We were in a place called Coyote Hills Regional Park and the dirt path I met her on, was a hiking path that ran through most of the park. 

I grabbed Buffy around the shoulders and upper torso and tried to pull her unconscious body along as I walked down the hiking path. Buffy's feet dangled and dragged along the ground and I huffed and puffed, but managed to bring her along with me. 

Justine; on the other hand; just picked Spike up and threw him over her shoulder. She carried him like he weighed about as much as a sack of potatoes. Damn, she was strong. 

Spike was laid down in the bed of the pickup truck, while Buffy was wedged into the front seat between Justine and me. 

"So, can't you do a healing spell?" Justine asked, "I mean, you're a wizard and all. You can do stuff like that, can't you?" 

Justine's question was a simple, straightforward one, but the answer was somewhat complicated. Healing spells were real, but there were many different kinds, and I hadn't mastered any of them. 

"Well no, I mean yes, I mean maybe," then I took a deep breath and tried to elaborate, "I can't do anything for Spike because technically he's not human. He's sort of undead and healing spells never work on the undead." 

 

_"What?_ You mean he's a zombie? I touched a zombie?" 

"No, he's not a zombie. And technically zombies aren't undead. They're just dead...I think. Spike is a vampire, but he's a really special case." 

Justine had been driving, but she slammed on the brakes when I told her Spike was a vampire and looked at me with a sort of angry panic in her eyes. 

"How special?" she demanded. "I may not be a wizard, but I've seen almost every vampire movie ever made, and the vampires are always killing humans and if Spike is going to go on a killing spree, I can just dump him out on the side of the road right now and never look back!" 

So, we sat there with the truck's engine idling while I explained all about computer chip in Spike's head and how it kept him from killing people. It was weird watching Justine's facial expression change from angry panic to stunned disbelief. 

After a long, stunned silence, Justine finally responded, "You wizards live a strange life," and the truck started moving again. 

"So, you can't do a healing spell on Spike, on account of he's a vampire," Justine said as she drove away from the park, "But what about Buffy? Could you do a healing spell on her?" 

I looked over at Buffy, still unconscious and bloody from the mauling that doppelganger had given her, and I had a sick feeling deep down in my guts. She was my strong and beautiful Buffy and that damn shape-shifter had cut her up like he was trying to skin an orange. I had to make Buffy alright again. I just couldn't let her stay like this. 

"I can do it," I said with all the passion that comes from feeling the pain of a wounded soulmate, "I can work a healing spell for her, but I'll need water to make it work. I'll need lots of water." 

"Not a problem," Justine said, "I can get you all the water you need." 

 

*** * * * * * * ***

Justine parked her truck in the garage of a single-family home. Once again, she carried Buffy as if my girlfriend weighed no more than a bag of groceries. 

Justine carried Buffy through the dining room and kitchen and turned on lights as she went. The house was silent except for Justine and me. It seemed to me that we were alone in the house. That was a load off my mind. I really didn't want to explain Buffy's injuries to anyone else. It was awkward enough explaining things to Justine. 

Justine carried Buffy into the bathroom and turned on the bathroom lights as well. She set Buffy down in a bathtub that was about twice the size of the one Buffy and I had back in Sunnydale, and removed Buffy's shoes. 

That was a good idea actually. Once sneakers get wet, they're almost impossible to get dry again. 

"Run the water," Justine told me, "You can have as much as you need." 

"How big is this thing?" I asked as I grabbed the stainless steel knob and began to fill the bathtub with water. 

"One-hundred-twenty-five gallons," Justine replied, "I like to stretch out for long, hot baths after a long workout or a long hike. Do you think that'll be enough water?" 

"This'll be plenty," I said, smiling. 

I took off Buffy's socks to keep them from getting wet as well. I'd need to immerse her somewhat before I could make the spell work, and filling up a tub that big took a certain amount of time. 

"Is it okay to bring the vampire into the house?" Justine asked. 

I thought about it for a few seconds. As long as Spike had the chip in his head, he shouldn't be able to hurt anyone, and if we didn't bring him in before sunrise, the sun would kill him. 

Eventually I told Justine to bring Spike in, although she'd have to invite him. Justine thought this was one of the stupidest things she had ever heard; especially since Spike was still unconscious; but she really didn't know much about vampires. 

The water level in the tub kept going up and when it was high enough to submerge Buffy's thighs and torso, I plunged my hands into the water and focused my mind on the goddess Aceso. Her temples had all been destroyed centuries ago, however she still took pity on mortal beings that remembered and respected her, and let her healing magic flow into the hands of human vessels. 

And according to some of the ancient texts she was also the patron goddess of lesbians, so that would probably act in my favor. 

With my hands deep in the water, I reverently whispered the words, _"Salutaris Lacus,"_ and almost instantly felt a powerful tingling sensation in my fingers and the palms of my hands. The water glowed for a few seconds with an inner-light and then I felt a smile spread wide across my face as Buffy's eyes finally opened and she looked up at me, licked her beautiful lips and opened her mouth to speak. 

"Will, where am I? And why am I all wet?" 

_"Buffy!!"_ I squealed with delight. My healing spell had worked! 

"Will," said Buffy again, only this time she drew the word out slowly and with a certain degree of impatience. She gave me her serious-face, apparently not yet realizing what a joyous occasion this was. 

"Yes, Buffy?" 

"Where am I?" she asked again. 

"Fremont, California," I answered, "I had to do a spell to get us away from the doppelganger. He had knocked you and Spike unconscious. I had to get us all out of there, or he would have killed all three of us." 

The look on Buffy's face softened and then she said, "You can do that? Wait! Where's Fremont?" 

I had to think for a second. I had studied maps of California for geography class and tried to remember where Fremont was located. I have a good memory, so it didn't take long. 

"It's about 300 miles north of Sunnydale," I said, "Give or take a few miles." 

Buffy's eyes opened wider in amazement and she said, "So you can do spells that teleport us hundreds of miles away in the blink of an eye?" 

"I wasn't sure I could do it until just today," I confessed. "I've been afraid to try it out, but when that thing threatened to kill you and me, I was more afraid of him than I was of the spell going wrong." 

Then Buffy looked down at her thigh with the deep slash marks in it. They looked bloody and painful. And the slash marks across her ribcage and belly looked even worse, however as Buffy and I watched, the painful-looking lacerations became smaller and closed up. Within three minutes they became nothing more than pinkish, abrasions. And within six minutes, even the abrasions were gone. 

Buffy looked at me with eyes wide and her jaw hanging wide open. 

"Healing spell," I explained. 

"Willow, you are the best girlfriend ever," Buffy exclaimed enthusiastically, "I am so glad I chose you to have naked smoochies with! Smart, great kisser, cute butt and now healing spells! What more could I possibly ask for?" 

I thought about that for a seconds and answered, "A million dollars in the bank?" 

"Screw that," Buffy said in response, "I'd rather have a sexy, kick-ass Wicca like you than a girlfriend with a million dollars! There are some things money can't buy!" 

Then Buffy leaned forward and pulled me in closer and kissed me passionately on the lips. Her lips felt soft, warm and inviting against mine and her hands felt warm, comfortable and familiar. The kiss felt soft and delicate at first, but it evolved into a kiss of passion and urgency. Soon we were both breathing hard as Buffy's lips merged with mine and her tongue attempted to part my lips. 

"Buffy," I said panting, "we're not alone in this house. There's a girl named Justine. This is her house. She could walk in at any second. We should stop now." 

Buffy was panting too, but she was sensible. We couldn't get into an intense lesbian make-out session in some stranger's home, when she might walk in at any moment. 

But rather than cooling down, Buffy stood up in the tub and removed her shirt. Then she undid the snap on her blue jeans and began to unzip them. And she didn't stop removing items of clothing until she was completely naked. 

And then, when she was standing completely naked in the tub, my girlfriend said, "Will, maybe you should lock the door." 

This was pretty sexually daring for Buffy. Of course, she had just barely survived that attack by that doppelganger. Some people react to brushes with death, by doing things that embrace life. Maybe that's what Buffy was doing in this case. At any rate, Buffy's suggestion to lock the bathroom door seemed like a good one. I took my eyes off of my naked girlfriend for a few seconds, so I could work the lock on the bathroom door, and when I turned back she was still there, naked, slender, hands on her hips, her chin raised up high and her firm breasts rising as she breathed in and out faster than normal. 

Buffy tried to keep her facial expression calm and serene, however she was very nearly panting. I had rarely seen her so wanton and bursting with sexual need before. Her beautiful lips parted and her breathing sped up even faster. She then proceeded to lick her lips and make a soft moaning sound and very slowly, playfully said, "Now, maybe...just maybe...you should take off your clothes and get into the tub with me." 

The sight on my naked girlfriend with her hands on her hips, her breasts thrust forward invitingly, water beading on her naked skin and a seductive look on her beautiful face very nearly shut my brain down completely. Without even thinking about it, my hands worked buttons, zippers and laces and within seconds all of my clothes were on the floor and I was standing naked in the tub, next to Buffy. 

And once I was standing in the water, I felt tingly and all of my body was aching for Buffy. It was almost as if the healing waters had some sort of special power to incite lust and sexual need. I wrapped my arms around Buffy's naked torso, pulling her close, kissing her deeply. 

Buffy was a way better kisser than any of the boys I ever kissed. As we both kissed and moaned and held each other close, I could feel my nipples becoming hard and a naughty wetness forming between my legs. Then I moaned as Buffy slipped her tongue into my mouth. It was warm, wet, stimulating and tasted kind of like cherry lifesavers. 

Suddenly, there was a knocking at the door and I heard Justine call out, "Willow, are you okay in there? The bathroom door is locked." 

I reluctantly broke from the kiss and pulled back from Buffy's naked body just a little bit and steadied my voice a little and called back, _"I'm fine, Justine! I just needed privacy for the healing spell to work! I'll unlock it as soon as the spell is done!!"_

"You need privacy for the healing spell to work?" Buffy whispered into my ear. 

"Would you rather I told her the truth?" I asked. 

Buffy shook her head in negation and smiled a playful, impish smile, and then she pulled me in close and pressed her naked body into mine. I could feel Buffy's high, firm breasts being pressed into my own naked boobs, flattening them out. I could also feel her firm, athletic thighs rubbing gently against my own. And as my girlfriend held me close, I could feel her heart beating passionately as her ribcage was pressed against my naked torso. 

"I can feel your heart beating," I said softly as Buffy's slender, naked body was pressed close to mine, "I love the feel of your heart, pounding. It's like it's beating just for me." 

Buffy pulled back slightly so I could see the seductive smile on her face and said, "My heart belongs to you, Will," and then she took my right hand and pressed it directly to her breast. 

Buffy's breasts were high and firm, though not really very large, just slightly more than a handful. 

"Can you still feel my heart beating?" Buffy asked. 

With my hand on Buffy's naked breast, I could feel each individual beat of her heart. I'd had sex with Buffy before, but somehow feeling her heartbeat with my hands seemed more intimate. 

I nodded my head and said, "I goes _thump-thud, thump-thud, thump-thud."_

With my hand on her breast, I also noticed how hard and erect Buffy's nipples were. They were like pencil erasers. They only get like that when Buffy's really, really in a naughty, sexy, please-touch-me kind of mode. 

"Watching you makes my heart beat like that," Buffy said, "You make my heart happy." 

This comment earned Buffy another kiss. We both moaned as Buffy's soft lips pressed into mine and Buffy's fingertips pressed into my naked flesh, but Buffy was insanely hot with sexual huger and kissing just wasn't going to be enough for her, so before long I my mouth was on her hard nipple and I was using my teeth and tongue on her swollen, pink nub of flesh.   
_  
"Aaaghhhh, Oooooaahhh, Uuuuuuahh,"_ moaned Buffy, making all sorts of pleasant, erotic vowel sounds.   
_  
"God, Will,"_ Buffy moaned as I stimulated her perfect, pink nipple 

My girlfriend was so turned on, she had trouble forming actual words. Her grip on my shoulders tightened and those powerful, athletic arms pushed me down to my knees. I soon found myself staring at the wet, pink, swollen pubic lips of Buffy's sex. Buffy shaved her pubic area, however my face was so close to her sweet, sensual womanhood I could see tiny, minor bits of stubble where her pubic hairs were attempting to grow back. 

I took a few seconds to admire the beauty of the pink, puffy, moist slit between Buffy's firm, athletic thighs, and I tried to take some time to plant soft kisses on her beautiful bare thighs and nuzzle her flat belly, but Buffy's need was such that wasn't willing to be very patient, and I soon felt Buffy's strong hands on the back of my head, encouraging me to stick my tongue where it belonged. 

I thrust my tongue deep inside my girlfriend and was almost immediately rewarded with louder moaning, panting and an athletic gyration of Buffy's pelvis against my face. 

Buffy made a lot more vowel sounds and held my face tightly against her crotch. I licked and probed her sex as best I could under the circumstances, and Buffy kept thrusting her vulva into my face like she was doing a really enthusiastic salsa dance. 

_"Will, Oh, Gaaaaauhhhhh,"_ Buffy moaned as she writhed and jerked and twitched and my mouth filled with liquid orgasm. Buffy usually gushed with orgasmic fluids when I ate her pussy, however this time she gushed a lot more than normal. It seemed like a flood of juices this time. I loved the taste of Buffy, so this was not a problem for me, however I was just taken by surprise. It was almost like a water balloon exploding in my face. 

Buffy sighed and panted and tried to catch her breath while I cleaned her juices off my face. 

_"Oh God, oh God, Oh God,"_ Buffy panted and her firm, beautiful breasts heaved up and down as she continued to gasp for air. 

Buffy's knees buckled and she leaned against the tiled wall for support. She had a blissful smile on her face, but she looked pleasantly exhausted and spent. 

"Oh God, Will, that was amazing," Buffy exclaimed, and then she added, "You were amazing! Do healing spells always make people so horny? 

I looked up at Buffy. Her eyes were barely open and the euphoric smile on her face bespoke of post-orgasmic bliss. I was thrilled to see her so happy, but I had no idea how to answer her question. Was it normal for healing spells to make you horny? I really had no idea. None of my spell books said anything about any sexual side-effects to the spell. 

"I dunno," I finally answered, "I've never cast a healing spell before." 

Then Buffy's eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes slightly and looked down at me and replied, "Well, I guess we're gonna have to do some research then." 

"Really?" I asked, kinda enthusiastic about testing Buffy's hypothesis about healing spells. 

Then Buffy sank gracefully down to her knees and slowly, gently placed hands on me. First she touched my bare shoulders and then she wrapped her arms around my upper torso and pulled me close. 

"Y'know, I get hurt on the job a lot," Buffy said softly, "So, we'll probably get to do research on this healing spell thing two of three times a week." 

"Two or three?" I asked, and then Buffy leaned in for a long, slow, lingering, intimate kiss. 

By the time Buffy broke from the kiss, I was gasping for air...but in a good, sexy, happy way and then Buffy playfully replied, "Maybe four. Being a slayer is a dangerous job."


	3. Bondage and lesbian sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In order to save Sunnydale, Buffy and Willow have to have sex.

Justine knocked on the door again. Buffy and I were lying naked in the tub and neither one of us felt like getting out, but I think Justine was getting suspicious.

"Almost done," I called out, "The healing spell, was a success, I just need to, um...put the spell in park and make sure it doesn't drift to other parts of the house."

"Put the spell in park?" Buffy whispered.

"She's not a witch," I whispered back, "She doesn't know how spells work. I can tell whatever I want."

Buffy and I just lay there for a while, limp and relaxed. I knew I had to get out of the tub eventually, but the exquisite feeling of Buffy's warm, naked flesh against mine was making it hard to motivate. I might have spent another hour in the tub with Buffy, but Justine came knocking on the door again just a few minutes later and yelled, "The vampire is awake and he says he wants to talk to the Slayer!"

Almost instantly Buffy and I rose up out of the water and we hurriedly grabbed towels. Now that Spike was awake, it didn't seem like a good idea to leave him alone with Justine.

"Is one of you the Slayer?" Justine called out through the door.

"I'm the Slayer," Buffy called out through the locked door, "I'll be out in a minute!"

We got dressed quickly. Spike still had that chip in his head, but somehow my head was filling with disturbing pictures of Justine lying in a pool of her own blood, while Spike stood menacingly over her dead body. It may not have been logical, but Buffy and I both dressed with a sense of urgency.

Buffy was in such a hurry to get dressed, that the rips in her clothes got even wider. Her jeans were a lost cause now. That was a real pity, I loved those jeans on Buffy. They were the extra-tight jeans that looked almost like they were spray-painted on. They really showed off the shape of Buff's thighs and her super-firm butt.

Buffy and I burst out of the bathroom, looking for any signs of violence or foul play, but all we found were Justine and Spike standing around, looking to us, as if for answers.

"So, there you are," Spike said, actually sounding pleased to see Buffy, "I was starting to wonder. Last thing I remember we were fighting that shape-shifty thing at the high school, and now I'm here. And where is here, exactly?"

"My living room," Justine answered.

"Fremont," I told Spike.

Spike raised an inquisitive eyebrow and asked, "Fremont? Where the blood hell is Fremont? And why are we in Fremont when there's evil afoot in Sunnydale?"

"We're in Fremont because I did a spell that brought us all here," I told Spike, "You and Buffy were both unconscious and that thing was going to kill all three of us, so I thought...anything would be better than getting killed...so I did a spell and here we all are...not torn into ground chuck and blood spatters on the school floor."

"And since when do you care about stopping the forces of evil?" Buffy asked, incredulous.

"Hey, I might not be the Slayer, but I still fight the forces of evil," Spike boasted, "I'm sort of like Batman...only without the embarrassingly tight spandex costume. Did you not see the way I threw myself against the forces of darkness?"

"I saw the forces of darkness pick you up and swing you around like a tennis racket," Buffy countered.

"Last time I underestimated him," Spike conceded, "Next time I'm gonna kick his ass!"

"Wait, I thought you were a vampire," Justine said awkwardly, "since when do vampires fight the forces of evil?"

Justine looked from Spike to me and then to Buffy. She seemed to be hoping that one of us could answer her question, but I was just about as mystified as her. I remember it wasn't that long ago that Spike was trying to kill Buffy and me. For Spike to want to help us in vanquishing the doppelganger, just seemed way out of character for him.

"Everybody needs a hobby," Spike said simply, as if that explained everything. 

 

* * * * * * * * *

It took some time, but we eventually convinced Justine to drive Buffy, Spike and me back to Sunnydale. Justine was even nice enough to provide Buffy with a change of clothes, since the doppelganger shredded her jeans and her shirt.

I eventually figured out Spike's radical change of behavior. Spike had spent a century or so as a predator, and it had really traumatized him when he found out that he couldn't kill humans anymore. It was like being the biggest, strongest lion in all of Africa, with the strongest jaws, the sharpest teeth, but still somehow unable to kill any of the zebras on the sub-Saharan plains.

That was a huge blow for Spike. Despite all of his power, he couldn't use any of it. 

At least that's what he thought until his fight with the doppelganger. Now he knows he can still hunt. He can't hunt humans anymore, but he can still hunt other things. So, instead of being a lion who can never hunt again, he's more like a lion who's simply been forced to hunt hyenas instead.

It's a much smaller adjustment, and Spike seems to be very happy about it. He can still be a predator, he just has to switch targets.

_"Demons,"_ Spike yelled enthusiastically in my ear, _"Nasty buggers! Let's fight that evil!!"_

Buffy sat right next to me on my left and said, "Spike, you do realize that you're still a vampire, right?"

"What? A vampire can't fight evil?" Spike asked defensively.

"I'm pretty sure there's no rule against it," Spike continued, "And even if there were, I've never really been real keen on living my life by someone else's rules. If Spike wants to be the vampire that fights evil, Spike will bloody well be the vampire that fights evil!"

"I think I liked him better when he was trying to kill me," Buffy said irritably.

"And before we can _fight_ that evil, we're going to have to _find_ that evil," I told Spike. "The doppelganger looked like Chip the first time we saw him. He can probably look like anyone in town. Right now, he could be another one of the students on campus. Or maybe one of the teachers."

""Yeah," Spike conceded, "But if you had a blood sample or a lock of his hair, you could do another tracking spell and find him, no matter who he looked like."

Spike gave me a smug grin and I had a feeling he wasn't just talking about a hypothetical situation.

"Spike, are you saying you have something like that?"

 

His smile seemed to get even more extreme and he pulled something out of the pocket of his leather duster. It was a lock of hair.

"Spike, have you been pulling people's hair again?" Buffy asked, accusingly.

"Hey," Spike snapped, "I had the bloody demon in a bloody wrestling hold! I just ended up with a handful of his hair when he grew like three bloody times his normal size and broke free!"

* * * * * * * * * *

The trip to Sunnydale was awkward and uncomfortable. Spike and Buffy fought most of the time and I was trapped in the vehicle with Buffy to my left and Spike to my right.

It would have been so much easier if I could have just teleported us back to Sunnydale, but the only spell I know for traveling long distances in the blink of an eye sends you to random destinations. Hypothetically I could cast it a hundred times and still not make it back to Sunnydale!

At some point I tried to distract Buffy and Spike from sniping at each other, but explaining to Justine exactly what a slayer was.

She totally wasn't getting it. Once she found out that Buffy had super-human strength, super-human reflexes, resilience and rapid healing, she insisted that Buffy must be some sort of super hero. I tried to explain that Buffy didn't wear a mask or a cape or a spandex costume, but it was too late.

"She has super strength, super healing and she fights evil, therefore she must be a super hero," Justine declared firmly, and then to buttress her argument she added, "Doctor Manhattan didn't wear a mask or a cape or a spandex costume and he was still a super hero. The same rule applies to Buffy."

Buffy rolled her eyes and Spike got an amused smirk. I started wondering how Xander was going to react when he met Justine. He'd never met a girl before that liked comic books as much as he did. He was probably going to be in comic-nerd heaven.

* * * * * * * *

"Giles this is Justine. Justine this is Giles," I said, getting introductions out of the way.

"He's sort of the brains of the operation," Buffy told Justine. 

"Oh, you mean like Mister Fantastic?" Justine inquired, excitedly.

"Mister who?" Giles asked, confused by the comic book reference.

Giles and Justine basically spoke two different languages and Xander wasn't there to help translate. Dammit! The one time Xander's comic-nerd skills could have been put to good use and he was missing in action!

Buffy quickly solved the problem by changing the subject.

"Giles, we've got big evil problems afoot," Buffy said, taking the focus off Justine and redirecting it towards the problem of the doppelganger.

"Well, what sort of big evil?" Giles asked.

* * * * * * * *

Giles had plenty of books shape-shifters. The problem was that there were lots of supernatural creatures that could shapeshift and Buffy and I didn't know enough about this one, to narrow it down to just one type. And without knowing what sort of shapeshifter it was, it was going to be very difficult to come up with a plan for how to defeat it.

Buffy, Giles, Justine and I all ended up going through Giles's books on supernatural threats, hoping to find the shape-shifty beastie we were looking for. Much to my surprise, even Spike helped. Giles was really shocked to see Spike doing research, but I guess Spike really, really had changed. He liked killing things and if demons were the only thing he could kill, he'd dedicate a lot of time and effort to the cause.

After about an hour or two of research, Giles finally came up with something.

"I think I've got it," Giles announced, "I'm pretty certain. I think it's a skinwalker."

"A what?" Buffy and Justine asked in unison.

"It's a um, type of evil creature that was once human," Giles explained. "Apparently Augustus Van Buren encountered a skinwalker in the Arizona Territory back in 1887 and the one he encountered sounds quite a lot like the shape-shifter that tried to kill Buffy and Willow."

"He tried to kill me too," Spike said admonishingly, apparently offended that Giles forgot about him.

"Yes, of course," Giles said almost apologetically, "Well, at any rate the skinwalker possessed superhuman strength, just like the one that fought Buffy and Spike, and it could change its appearance and mimic any voice. It could appear as a white man or an Indian. It could speak fluent English, fluent Navajo and fluent Apache. It could be anyone. According to Van Buren, he couldn't trust anyone until he knew the skinwalker was dead."

That seemed to be our guy. The doppelganger we saw at the old high school didn't just mimic Chip's face and body perfectly, but also his voice. I was willing to bet that Chip's doppelganger was a skinwalker.

"So, how do I kill it?" Buffy asked, getting straight to the most important question.

Giles seemed surprised by the question. He had been looking down at the pages of Van Buren's book, apparently getting lost in the history of a man long dead. Giles is a real bookworm and it's easy for him to get absorbed by the printed words on the page of a good book.

Okay, fully disclosure, I'm a bookworm too. I get totally engrossed in books too, but when Giles does it and I can poke fun at him, its cooler that way.

"Um, yes, well," Giles said, stalling while he flipped the pages and attempted to find a passage where Van Buren explained how to kill a skinwalker.

"Aha," Giles finally exclaimed triumphantly, "According to Van Buren, the skinwalker gained his powers and immortality through death, through the killing of innocents and the defiling of corpses. He can be killed by the forces of life. If dampened with water from the Fountain of Life, the skinwalker will lose much of his powers and will suffer great pain."

Giles looked up from his book, with a look of satisfaction and smug victory on his face. I almost felt sorry for him a few seconds later, when Buffy deflated his sense of satisfaction with her follow-up question.

"And what exactly is the Fountain of Life?" Buffy asked.

The room got real quiet and the smile rapidly disappeared from Giles's face. The poor guy looked deflated.

"Apparently more research is in order," Giles finally conceded. Then he went through his book collection and found half a dozen books by Augustus Van Buren and started handing them out. 

"New assignment everyone," Giles announced, "Scour Van Buren's books and see if you can find a definition in any of them for the Fountain of Life, or where such a fountain might be located."

Research can be slow and tedious. Finding the exact passage where Van Buren scribbled down the definition of "Fountain of Life" could have taken hours. I mean, Van Buren had written hundreds of pages, and there was no way to tell even which book it might be written down in!

I say that, but this time I got lucky. The answer was in the book that Giles had handed me, and it only took me about ten minutes to find the information I was looking for.

I read silently from Van Buren's book, specifically I read one paragraph over and over, and occasionally raised my eyes up from the pages of the book and focused on my friends, hard at work, doing their own reading.

You see, the "waters from the fountain of life" was Van Buren's poetic way of talking about the fluids that a woman secrets from her sex, when she's sexually aroused.

There was really no way I wanted to explain this to Giles or Spike, especially not when it dawned on me that there was really only one way for us to obtain a sample of these "waters from the fountain of life"! The only thing that would make it worse, would have been if Xander were here, and I had to explain it to him!

Deciding that this was no time for honesty or openness, I closed my book, set it down and said, "Oh, my gosh! I think I know what this stuff is! I think I've got some back in my room!"

"Seriously, Willow?" Giles asked, looking up from his own book, "That's wonderful news! What is it?"

"It's um, witch-stuff," I said, standing up and backing away, "Sort of a witch's brew sort of thing, and Buffy and I are gonna go back to our off-campus housing and go get it right now."

"We are?" Buffy asked as she set her book down.

Spike raised and inquisitive eyebrow and said nothing, but he seemed to know that I was deliberately withholding information.

I made an awkward exit and refused to answer Buffy's questions until we were at least a block away from Giles's apartment and well out of earshot.

"So, you know when you're thinking naughty, sexy thoughts? I mean really, really yummy, naughty, sexy thoughts and you get so hot and bothered that you get your panties soaking wet?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied with a leery tone of voice that implied she thought the question was impolite and uncomfortable.

"Yeah," I said, trying to approach this delicate subject with caution, "those fluids that soak your panties when you're having those naughty, sexy thoughts....those are the fluids Van Buren was talking about. That's what will hurt the skinwalker and make him easier to defeat."

_"Wait! What?"_ Buffy exclaimed, sounding shocked and offended, "You want me to strip down naked, spread my pubic lips wide and rub myself up and down against the skinwalker in hopes that I can get my fluids all over him? Will, I'm not doing that! That's crazy! That's not what I signed up for when I agreed to fight the forces of evil!"

"Okay," I said, trying to sound soothing and calm Buffy down, "there are other ways to do this. You don't have to rub up against the skinwalker like some sort of demented stripper. I have a much more civilized idea."

"Yeah? Let's hear it," Buffy demanded, sounding dubious.

So, I explained my plan to Buffy. I'd get her home, strip her naked, use my tongue, my lips and my talented fingers to get her all hot and excited and use a glass test tube to capture any fluids that escaped from the lips of her beautiful womanhood. Then I'd use a rubber stopper to trap her juices inside and we'd carry the test tube into battle, when we went to fight the skinwalker.

"Brilliant plan, Will," Buffy responded, when I'd finished explaining, "Just, I'm making one revision. You're the one who's stripping naked and I'm the one who's going to get you all hot and excited."

My face immediately felt hot and I looked around to see if anyone on the street had heard what Buffy had just said. Buffy and I had been having naked fun-time for months now, but I still got embarrassed at the thought of anyone else knowing about it.

Luckily the closest bystander was about sixty feet away. Once again I felt that my reputation for being chaste and virginal was safe.

"Why does it have to be me, who gets naked?" I asked, "I'm the one who came up with the plan for how to weaken the skinwalker. Why can't you get naked?"

"Actually, it was that Van Buren guy who came up with the plan, Will," Buffy said, self-righteously, "You just copied off his homework. And I got naked in Justine's bathtub back in Fremont. Remember that? That was some intense orgasmage. I think my pussy is outta commission for the rest of the night."

"And besides," Buffy added, "I'm the one who has to fight him, so you should be the one who provides the water from your fountain of life. It's an equitable distribution of labor."

* * * * * * * * * *

When we got back home, Tara and Terri were just finishing up the movie marathon. We had been gone for hours and Buffy was wearing different clothes now than when she left. Buffy and I made with the apologies and Buffy said she'd explain later, but right now we had important stuff that we had to do and there was no time lengthy discussion.

In our bedroom, I got Buffy the test tube and the rubber stopper. Buffy held both in her hands for a few seconds, before looking at my with that familiar smoldering lust in her eyes and said, "Strip! Now!"

She said it in her authoritative, prison-guard of cell-block-D voice, which always makes me feel all soft and gooey inside. I can never refuse her when she uses that voice. That voice always bypasses the logic center of my brain and just goes straight to my libido and gets me all sexually excited.

Buffy had seen me naked lots of times, but stripping for her when she was using that stern prison guard voice made everything different. It made me sexually aroused and nervous all at the same time.

Buffy watched me intently as I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and lifted it up to reveal my flat belly, ribcage and my boobs, concealed inside the nylon/spandex fabric of my bra.

I tugged the t-shirt over my head and unbuttoned my jeans. The t-shirt ended up on the floor and I pushed the jeans with some difficulty, down my thighs, to expose my nylon/spandex panties. When I finally removed my jeans completely and I was standing there in just my bra and low rise hiphugger panties, Buffy gave me a stern and attentive look, just like a female prison-guard might do.

The stern look ratcheted up my nervousness, but also my excitement. Something about this submissive/dominant roleplay with Buffy always gets me hotter and wetter than just ordinary sex. I'm pretty sure Buffy knew that, and was really the whole point of her whole authoritative, prison guard of cell-block-D act.

I undid the clasps on my bra and let it fall to the floor, on top of my t-shirt and my jeans. Then I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and pushed that tiny piece of fabric down my narrow hips and slender legs so that I could step out of them.

When I was fully naked, the look on Buffy's face softened. She gave me that look that she always gave me when she saw me naked, it was a look of adoration and admiration. It was almost like she was a priestess and my naked body was the goddess that she worshipped.

That adoration-look still on her face, Buffy took my hand and led me over to the bed. She knocked all of the pillows off and they ended up on the floor, next to my panties and all of my other clothes.

"Lie down," Buffy ordered, doing the prison guard of cell-block-D voice again. I scurried to obey, excited and nervous again as her prison guard voice hit my naked body like a physical blow.

"Spread your arms and legs," Buffy ordered and I obeyed automatically, just as I might have if Buffy really were a prison guard in a women's prison and I were one of the female inmate.

While I was naked and in this incredibly vulnerable position, Buffy was fully clothed and had total freedom of movement. I started breathing heavily at the thought of how vulnerable I was, offering my body up to her like a virgin sacrifice being offered up to a Pagan Goddess.

Buffy pulled out several lengths of ropes from underneath the bed and used them to tie my wrists and ankles to the bedposts, leaving my wide open, helpless and in spread-eagle bondage. Then she picked a pillow up off the floor and shoved it underneath my hips, raising up my pussy and causing me to offer it up to Buffy and to display it in a rather obscene manner.

"You've never tied me up before," I observed, sounding kinda stupid as I said it.

"Would you be happier if I untied you?" Buffy asked and arched an eyebrow at me. She seemed to know what my answer would be.

"No," I replied, "This is actually kind of a turn-on."

I wondered how Buffy knew I would find this exciting. I never actually told her that I found the idea of being tied up, exciting. How did she guess? Did I ever do something that gave her a clue about my leanings in that direction? 

"Then, just enjoy it, and stop talking about it," Buffy said, sounding slightly annoyed, but also slightly amused.

Before I could think of a way to respond to that, Buffy crawled halfway onto the bed, supported her weight on her elbows and forearms and began to slowly lick her way up the naked expanse of my right leg. Without even meaning to, I began to moan as Buffy's tongue slithered in long back and forth motions across the moist skin of my bare thigh. She licked and kissed her way up my leg, bypassing my pubic lips, kissing her way up my waist and my ribcage and arriving with great fanfare at my breasts and swollen, erect nipples, licking and sucking my right nipple at first, and then my left nipple.

I moaned and panted and struggled against my ropes, but Buffy had done too expert a job when it came to tying me up. No matter how much I writhed, struggled and gyrated, I couldn't make any progress in getting loose. The ropes were just too strong and too tightly tied to my wrists, ankles and the bedposts.

"Buffy," I sighed weakly as Buffy's tongue, lips and teeth assaulted my nipples. My nipples are these huge erogenous zones. Oz never understood that and never paid them much attention. Buffy apparently figured out that my nipples were this erotic Promised Land and drove me insane with lust, licking, chewing, sucking and caressing them. I writhed and struggled against the ropes (even though I knew I had no hope of breaking free) as Buffy drove my lust into feverish heat, and I ended up soaking wet between my legs. I could feel my pussy dripping like a faucet and somewhere in my brain I knew this was important for some reason, but I was so insane with lust at this point, I couldn't remember why.

Buffy sucked my nipples hard and then soft, alternating, never letting me get too accustomed to one technique or another. Her expert fingers cupped my breasts and then rose up to knead them slightly. She caught my sensitive, responsive nipples between her teeth and chewed on them with just enough energy to make me gasp and moan.

"Buffy," I said again, sounding even more desperate than before. There was something important she should be doing at this point, but I still couldn't remember what it was, so I just panted, sweated and writhed while Buffy worked her magic with her mouth on my nipples.

Then her fingers were busy between my legs, stroking my pubic lips up and down before a single finger dipped inside of me.

"God, you taste good, Will," Buffy said after licking my juices off of her finger and I wanted to tell her not to do that. We needed my juices for something else.

It was almost as if Buffy read my mind. The test tube was suddenly at the entrance of my pussy and it was tilted so that gravity would allow my fluids to drip into the glass container.

I groaned in approval of Buffy's actions and then my girlfriend's tongue licked her way up and down the slit of my pink sex. Her talented fingers caressed my wet, sensitive pubic lips and eased my swollen labia apart. Then her tongue came into play again, licking my sensitive pubic lips and causing me to moan endlessly.

Her fingers dipped in and out of my sex, then her tongue entered my needy, pulsing sex and then her beautiful mouth found my clitoris and she licked back my clitoral hood.  
 _  
"Oooh! Ooooohh! Ulungh,"_ I screamed inarticulately as her lips began to suck on my swollen, throbbing clit. The sensation of Buffy's beautiful lips, teeth and tongue on my clitoris were wild and deep as she sucked rhythmically.

I thought for certain I'd cum while Buffy sucked on my sensitive, swollen nub, but then she withdrew her lips and her talented tongue lapped at my clitoris, sending wave after wave of intense sexual energy through most of my helpless, thrashing, naked body.

_"UNGH! BUGHF!! HOONGH,"_ I screamed inarticulately as I strained against the ropes and felt the sexual pressure building up inside of me. When the orgasm hit I cried out, my back arched and my head jerked back.

There was a tremendous pressure in my head, and it exploded outwards, leaving me dazed, gasping and moaning and the muscles in my sex still throbbing and spasming. My orgasm seemed to go on and on and on. I thought it might ever end and that I would be here, tied to this bed for all eternity, thrashing and writhing in shameless orgasm. I eventually went limp and stopped thrashing, although it seemed that my pussy continued to throb and spasm and gush long after the rest of my body relaxed.

I was naked and bound and continued to pant, however my eyes had closed and I feared I might drift off to sleep. The orgasm I had just experienced had been extremely demanding and took far more out of me than any physical task I could remember ever having endured in my life.

"Oh, Buffy," I sighed when my mouth seemed to work again and I could remember how to form real words.

Buffy lifted up a test tube where I could see it. It was full of my juices and a rubber stopper had trapped them inside. I was impressed that I had secreted that much fluid from the center of my young womanhood.

"No way," I said, impressed with the amount of sexual juices Buffy had collected from me, and then Buffy held up a second test tube that was almost as full of the first one.

"Seriously?" I asked. "That all came from me?"

Buffy got an amused smirk on her face and responded, "Apparently, you're quite the sex machine."

"Apparently you're quite the evil temptress," I said, panting and smiling back at her.

Buffy's grin grew even wider and she said, "Nah, not really. I just know all your buttons. And once you were naked and tied up I could press your buttons all I wanted."

I just smiled and panted. It was difficult for me to come up with actual words. I think that very little blood was making it to my brain at that point.

"You up for doing another tracking spell?" Buffy asked and tried to stifle a laugh.

"Are you kidding? I can't even feel my legs!"

In response Buffy placed a tender kiss on my left leg, and then another on my right leg, and then she said, "Poor baby. I wore you all out. Does this mean you don't want me to use my evil tongue on your innocent, young body ever again?"

"Huh? What?" I said, sounding panicked.

"I mean, if big bad Buffy is too much for little innocent Willow, maybe I should just respect that and not violate her with my evil sexy ways."

She said it in a playful tone of voice and her mouth twisted into a playful grin, but my brain didn't fully register all that, and I panicked, thinking she might be serious. The idea that I might never ever have sex with Buffy ever again alarmed me and I vigorously protested against the idea.

"I can handle it," I insisted, "I love your evil tongue!"

"You better," Buffy said with playful menace in her voice, and then she climbed on top of my naked, prone form and we sort of snuggled...at least as much as two people can snuggle, when one of them it tied down spread-eagle.

* * * * * * * * * *

I don't remember falling asleep, but I must have at some point, because I remember waking up with Buffy's arms holding me close. I must have been untied at some point as my wrists and ankles were free and I had my arms wrapped around Buffy. 

I could have gazed adoringly at Buffy's sleeping face for hours. With her rounded, feminine chin, long eyelashes and softy, kissable lips, she was my feminine ideal of beauty. Even the sound of her breathing when she slept seemed beautiful to me.

Sadly, my peaceful adoration of Buffy's beauty was interrupted by the sound of the telephone ringing.

"Dammit," I exclaimed as the ringing sound roused Buffy from her slumber and caused her to sit up in bed.

The phone was closer to my side of the bed, so I grabbed the receiver out of its cradle, while Buffy watched my every move.

"Hello," I said into the mouthpiece, attempting to hide my irritation at my serene moment being interrupted.

"Willow, is everything alright?" the very British accent of Giles asked me over the phone.

"Giles, oh, Hi! Yeah, everything's fine," I responded. Buffy got an alarmed look on her face when I mentioned Giles's name and then suddenly I remembered that he was still probably waiting for us to come back with the waters from the fountain of life.

Then, into the phone, I quickly added, "Oh, the first batch of the waters went bad, so I had to brew a second batch. Sorry, I didn't realize it would take so long."

Then I lamely added, "Want me to bring it over now?"

"That shan't be necessary at this point," Giles said and then he added, "However I would like to know what has happened to Spike. He insists that he wishes to come with you the next time you encounter the skinwalker. He claims that he is now a valiant hero in the fight against the forces of evil."

There was a significant pause and then Giles asked, "Did you put a spell on him?"

I actually smiled at that. The idea of me using my magic on vampires to them into champions that fight evil, sounded really cool to me. 

"My magic isn't that advanced, Giles," I told him. 

"Well, what's happened to him, then? It's quite disconcerting watching Spike speaking out against vampires and demons and such. It's like watching Charles Manson babysit small children, or a Catholic priest giving out free condoms to his parishioners."

"The chip that stops Spike from killing humans, apparently it doesn't stop Spike from killing demons. We just recently found that out."

There was a pause on Giles's end and then suddenly Giles burst out with, "So, Spike hasn't suddenly become heroic or noble. He just misses the killing."

"Yep."

"Oh, well that makes a lot more sense. My world seems coherent again."

"Glad I could help," I said and looked down at my naked boobs and exposed pubic lips self-consciously. Giles couldn't see my naked body, but I felt uncomfortable talking to him while I was naked and hoped he'd get off the phone soon.

Almost as if he could read my mind, Giles wrapped up our conversation and hung up.

Buffy was still sitting on the bed and looked up at me.

"Giles?" she asked.

"Giles," I confirmed.

"Is he mad we never came back with the witch's brew?"

"I don't think so," I said and rummaged around the room, looking for clothes to put on, "He didn't sound mad. And anyway Spike wants to come with, when we attack the skinwalker again. We can't do that now."

"Why not?" Buffy asked and raised both of her eyebrows.

I pointed at the digital clock on my nightstand. It currently read 6:15. So either the sun was already up, or it would be rising very, very soon.

"Oh," Buffy exclaimed.

Vampires never did very well with sunlight. They tended to burst into flames and die when they went outside during daylight hours. 

"So, Giles isn't upset that we left him playing host to Justine and Spike?"

I shook my head to indicate a negative response. "Justine left. She's heading back to Fremont, and Spike has a crypt in one of the cemeteries. He's going to hang out there until the sun goes back down."

I put on a bra and some hiphugger panties and then suddenly there was a knock on the door. 

"Guys, it's me," said Terri's voice from the other side of the bedroom door, "Can I come in?"

Buffy looked over at me and I nodded. Terri had seen me naked before. It wasn't really a big deal for her to see me in my underwear at this point.

Terri stood half out in the hallway and half in my room when Buffy opened the door for her. Her face was kind of grim and I had a feeling I knew exactly why.

"You missed Movie Night," Terri accused. "You left right around the time the first movie started, and you were gone for six hours. You wanna tell me what happened?"

Buffy's eyebrows went up and I could see her facial expression change. It was the same facial expression she got when she was trying to think up a lie to tell her mother, when he mother asked her about something slayer-related. Sadly, Buffy wasn't very good at it, and I feared what sort of words might come out of her mouth next.

"Hey, I wanted to be here for Movie Night," Buffy began, "but that guy Spike needed my help. See, one of his friends was in jail and he needed some help bailing him out. There was this big deal at the police station and just tons of people were jammed into the place! The cops had arrested a bunch of teenagers over at Wilkins Park-"

"Wait," Terri interrupted, "Why would it take three people to bail out Spike's friend?"

This question seemed to catch Buffy flat-footed and she wavered, not certain how to respond.

Terri filled in the silence with more words of her own, adding, "When you were gone for so long, Tara got insecure and was worried that you were staying out all night because you didn't like her. I told her that she had nothing to worry about, but now I'm not so sure."

"Terri," Buffy began uncertainly, but then Terri interrupted her again and said, "And if all you were doing was bailing somebody out of jail, why were you wearing different clothes when you got home? You were wearing skinny jeans and a scoop-neck tee-shirt when you left. Now you're wearing straight-leg jeans and a cowlneck top. What's up with that? I'm pretty sure you didn't exchange clothes with some woman at the prison."

Terri knew Buffy was lying to her and seemingly getting madder by the minute. Terri and Buffy had been such good friends just a few hours ago, and I was miserable at the thought of Buffy's friendship with Terri being forever ruined.

I panicked and my mouth just seemed to operate without waiting for instructions from my brain.

"Buffy was attacked by a skinwalker," I blurted out, "And I did a spell that saved her life, but it put us three-hundred miles outside of Sunnydale, and we had to get new clothes for Buffy because the skinwalker shredded her other clothes with his claws, and it took us several hours to drive back home from Fremont! That's why we were gone so long!"

Buffy looked at me with wide-eyed surprise on her face. She obviously wasn't expecting me to say all that.

I was panting frantically after the words left my mouth, and my head was swimming. It was kind of a relief to get it all out into the open, but there was also the dreaded anticipation of wondering how Terri would react. Some people treated you like a lunatic when you told them about things like vampires and skinwalkers. Other people became paralyzed with fear. I had no way of guessing how Terri would react.

 

Buffy finally stopped staring at me when she heard Terri say, "I guess that makes sense."

All the tension went out of the room, and I was glad Terri wasn't freaking out. I was glad for the lack of drama, and I smiled in relief but Buffy broke in and said, "Wait, you believe Willow's story, but mine didn't sound plausible?"

Terri smiled and replied, "A year ago I probably would have said Willow's story was crazy, but ever since I moved to Sunnydale, I've seen a lot of strange shit."

"You have?"

Terri nodded in confirmation and offered up a few examples, "People that don't cast reflections in mirrors, people that bleed a dark-greenish color blood, there's the ghost of a dead librarian in the performing arts building, oh, and a plastic Halloween decoration turned into a flesh-and-blood monster last Halloween and tried to stab people at the Alpha Delta frat house."

I nodded my head at all that. Obviously the people who cast no reflections were vampires, and Buffy and I were both at the Halloween party at the Alpha Delta fraternity house. The flesh-and blood monster Terri was talking about tried to stab Buffy before it reverted back to harmless and inanimate plastic.

The people that bled dark-greenish blood and the ghost of the dead librarian were news to us. Buffy and I would probably have to investigate those later.

"The people who cast no reflections are vampires," Buffy confessed, "If you see any more people like that, don't allow them to get close to you. Just come and get me as soon as you can, I I'll deal with them."

Terri got a really surprised look on her face and asked, "So, you're some sort of professional vampire exterminator?"

Buffy squirmed a little at being called an exterminator, but she replied, "Well, I don't actually get paid for it, but I kill vampires...and the correct term is Vampire Slayer."

"But, you're so tiny," Terri protested, "I mean, you're about five foot, four. Sure, you're athletic for your size, but wouldn't a warrior that kills vampires be bigger? Like, six foot tall and have broad shoulders sort of bigger?"

Buffy got a playful smile on her face and said, lemme show you something, Terri."

Buffy crouched down and reached underneath our bed. After some searching, she managed to pull out a Louisville slugger. It was brand new and made out of tough, solid wood from an Ash Tree. It was designed to survive multiple impacts from baseballs traveling at 100 miles per hour. It could take a lot of abuse without breaking.

Buffy snapped it in half, with her bare hands with almost no visible effort.

The bat made a loud CRACK when Buffy broke it and out in the hallway, I hear a startled gasp and then a girlish voice inquired, "What was that?"

"Buffy broke a wooden baseball bat with her bare hands," Terri called out to the voice in the hallway.

There was a much more subdued gasp from the hallway and then Buffy called out, "Tara?"

Then a soft, hesitant voice that was barely audible replied, "Yes?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, and I rubbed the temple of my nose with my thumb and forefingers. We tried to keep all the stuff about vampires and slayers and secret, but now; within the span of a few seconds; we'd unleashed the secret on two civilians.

"Have you been out there, listening this whole time?" Buffy inquired.

"I just wanted to make sure you didn't hate me," Tara replied, finally entering the room. Terri put one protective arm around her girlfriend and looked Buffy in the eye as if daring her to scold Tara for eavesdropping.

"We love you, Tara," I protested, "Both Buffy and I do, but the stuff about Buffy being the slayer... we need you to keep that stuff a secret. Okay?"

After that, we had a moment. First Tara hugged Buffy and then Tara hugged me, then Terri hugged Buffy too. Eventually there was a group hug involving all four of us. It felt weird; and yet strangely erotic; being hugged while clad only in a bra and panties. I got a tingly feeling and sort of wished we were doing more than hugging. Something about feeling the rough fabric of their cotton and denim clothing rubbing up against my naked thighs and torso made me feel vulnerable and sexy. I wanted to explore this feeling more. 

I'd discuss it later with Buffy when we were alone. Terri and Tara were beloved and trusted friends, but I didn't really feel comfortable discussing my sexual kinks with them.


	4. Comrades in Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Willow help the Initiative defeat the skinwalker. Then they're shown around the Initiative's secret base.

It was Friday night. Most people my age were going to parties or taking their significant others out on a date. Some folks were staying home with their significant others and having naked, sexy fun together.

Buffy and I were getting together with Spike so we could track down a skinwalker and kill it.

Or maybe we'd track down the skinwalker and just barely escape with our lives. Although we did the thing where we just barely escaped with our lives Thursday night. I really didn't want to be repetitive. If you do the same thing two nights in a row, that's an early warning sign of falling into a rut.

Spike showed up with a weapon that was six feet long and looked like the offspring of a spear and a battle axe.

"It's called a halberd," Spike said, "These things were the assault weapons of the fifteenth century."

To which I replied, "Well, if we have to put down a revolt of English peasants, you're all set."

Buffy came equipped with her favorite battle axe. I'd seen her decapitate a vahrall demon with it last summer. It was a large, heavy axe and the edge of the blade was razor sharp.

And while Spike and Buffy had their large, impressive and deadly weapons, all I had were my nipple clamps and a lock of the skinwalker's hair.

Seriously, I think I'm the bravest of the group. Spike and Buffy had big, heavy weapons and I was walking into battle with nothing more than a lock of hair and tiny, metal jaws that dangled from a slender chain. I ought to get some sort of medal for going into battle like this.

Buffy and Spike wrapped their weapons up in long rolls of cobalt-blue fabric. With their weapons concealed in rolls of blue cotton, they looked far more like fashion design students than armed lunatics, and we were far less likely to get stopped by cops or campus security that way.

Getting stopped by campus police was never fun. They never understood about things like vampires, mok'tagar demons or skin walkers, so it was best to just avoid confrontations with them.

Spike had apparently gotten bored of teasing me about my nipple clamps....either that or he had gotten tired of being hit in the head by Buffy. Buffy didn't approve of Spike teasing me, and she showed her displeasure by punching Spike in the face or smacking his across the back of his skull.

*** * * * * * * * * ***

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," Buffy exclaimed vehemently.

The tracking spell had led us to Lowell House. Lowell House was one of the fraternity houses on campus. There were scores of students living there, and getting in there and killing the skinwalker without being noticed was going to be impossible.

"Why couldn't the skinwalker just hide out in a condemned building or some secret underground lair?" I asked forlornly. There were way too many civilians in Lowell House for Buffy to be doing any slaying in there.

"Maybe we can follow him around and wait for him to go someplace remote," Buffy offered helpfully.

"Okay, I'll go inside and see who is who. The skinwalker is probably disguised as one of the students. I'll figure out which one and we can follow him later when he goes off campus."

Buffy and Spike followed me closely and we all hoped for the best. None of us were expecting what we found inside.

Buffy grabbed the door handle to let me inside and that very instant, I heard a loud echo of gunfire coming from the lobby of the frat house.

 _"Bloody hell,"_ Spike exclaimed and we walked into a scene that looked like it came straight from a Bosnian war zone.

The floor tiles of the lobby were splattered with fresh blood for as far as the eye could see. There was also blood spattered on the walls and on the full length mirror in the main hall. I spotted the bodies of at least seven students that were lying dead on the floor. One of them had been decapitated, five had been eviscerated and one looked like his neck had been broken. His head was tilted at a very unnatural angle and there was a look of horror frozen on his dead face.

Buffy and Spike's feet made a _slurp_ sound as they walked on the fresh, sticky blood that was covering the floor.

The sound of gunfire was coming from deeper inside the frat house. Apparently somebody was attempting to fight off the skinwalker, but without much success. As we walked forward, I couldn't help but notice that some of the fraternity boys were holding handguns in their numb, dead hands.

"Well, this doesn't look good," Buffy remarked. I couldn't help but think that was probably the understatement of the year.

"What was your first clue?" I asked as I walked through the wet, sticky blood, making more slurping sounds as I walked.

It didn't take long to find the skinwalker. Buffy and Spike really didn't even need my tracking spell anymore. All we really needed to do was follow the sounds of the gunfire and the screaming. There was a full scale war going on in the frat house.

A tall broad-shouldered frat boy was firing a semi-automatic weapon at an impossibly tall humanoid creature in the hallway, just twenty feet from the front door. The creature must have been about ten feet tall and had reddish-brown hair covering most of its body. Its shoulders were about six-feet wide and it had strong, white teeth with sharp canines, which it bared at the frat boy who was shooting at him. The creature had a face that looked more like the face of a mountain lion than that of a human being, although there was a malicious intelligence in those eyes unlike anything I've ever seen in the eyes of any large cat.

I think the bullets hurt, but didn't really do any serious damage. The gunshots made a lot of noise and spewed spent shell-casings all over the floor, but the shape-shifter refused to die. Instead, he slammed into the frat boy like a truck and there was a disconcerting sound like the sound of breaking ribs or the splintering on the student's spine. After the student dropped his weapon, the skin walker threw him across the room, where he slammed into the far wall with a loud thud.

I took a deep breath and wished I was just about anywhere else. This was a killing field. People here were dying, lots of people were being killed rapidly and in ugly ways. I suddenly felt very small and insignificant and seriously wondered if we had any hope of defeating this big ugly thing.

I almost peed myself, when the skinwalker raised one massive arm, glared, bared his teeth and pointed an absurdly large finger at Buffy, Spike and I.

 ** _"YOU,"_** he called out accusingly.

 _"ME,"_ Spike responded, defiantly, and then he ripped the blue fabric free from his weapon and charged forward, with the naked blade end pointed directly at the skinwalker's chest.

 _"I'm back, and I'm a bloody predator!!"_ Spike screamed as he charged forward with extraordinary speed.

Buffy unfurled her weapon and charged forward about a half-second after Spike began his charge. Spike ran straight forward, dead center and Buffy ran forward, aiming at the skinwalker's right flank. The combined, simultaneous attacks made it almost impossible for the skinwalker to defend against both of them, and the skinwalker chose to focus on Spike.

A massive hand swept sideways and swatted the halberd out of Spike's hand with a loud echoing clatter. Spike was almost knocked over by the impact, but then he regained his footing and leapt high into the air and kicked the skinwalker in the face.

 _"Meddling child,"_ the skinwalker exclaimed as it swatted at Spike, _"I will suck the marrow from your bones!"_

The skinwalker swatted violently at Spike with his other massive hand, but Spike was moving too fast and agile for our antognist to land a solid blow. Spike barely even got clipped.

Buffy swung her battle axe and connected with the skinwalker's side, just above his hip. The skinwalker roared in anger and grabbed Buffy by the arm. It shook her like a rag doll until she dropped her weapon and then threw her across the room.

 _"Gotcha,"_ Spike exclaimed, catching Buffy before she could smash into the wall. They both tumbled to the floor, but neither one of them was hurt by the impact. All things considered we were doing better than we did in our first encounter with the skinwalker.

I had both of the test tubes with the magic water in them, but all the blood and the violence and the screaming had left me too full of fear and paralyzing panic to even _attempt_ to throw one of them at the skinwalker. It was so much bigger now, and there was blood everywhere and the sounds of screaming and gunfire were just so damn loud! My heart was beating like a Don Henley drum solo and my breathing was panicked, almost panting, I was so scared.

Then the skinwalker picked up Buffy's battle axe and cocked his hand back. The battle axe looked huge when Buffy was holding it, but in the skinwalker's massive hand it looked small, and I just knew he could throw it all the way across the room with very little effort. If Spike and Buffy couldn't dodge it, the razor-sharp edge of that axe could cut them open like an evisceration knife, cutting open a chicken.

 _"Aaarrrggghhhh,"_ the skinwalker bellowed. He bared his teeth and then turned to face another opponent.

Riley Finn, was standing at the other end of the hallway with a high-tech looking weapon. It looked kinda like a rifle, but Riley was firing some sort of electrical discharge from it. There was a sizzling sound as bursts of white electrical energy sped down the hallway and smashed into the skinwalker, knocking him off balance and leaving behind the smell of burning hair.

 _"Naaʼahóóhai,"_ the doppelganger swore at Riley and cocked his arm back to hurl the battle axe at his new opponent.

With his back turned to me, I suddenly felt braver, and I reached into my book-bag and pulled out one of the test tubes. I hurled my test tube at exactly the same instant that the skinwalker hurled his battle axe. The skinwalker was huge, so I didn't even need good aim. As long as the test tube was hurled down the hall in front of me, it was going to hit some part of the skinwalker's anatomy!

Riley screamed in pain as the battle axe hit him. He tried to dodge and succeeded in getting hit in the leg instead of his the skull. That was an improvement I suppose, but there was still a lot of blood.

At the exact same second that Riley screamed, the skinwalker bellowed in pain as the test tube hit him right between the shoulder blades. Both Riley and the skinwalker were wounded and both were obviously in a lot of pain. And then the skinwalker turned to face me, baring his massive teeth in an expression of rage and hostile intentions.

 _"Meddling girl-child,"_ the skinwalker swore at me, _"What have you done? What did you do to me?"_

"Water from the fountain of life, bitch," Spike yelled in response to the skinwalker, "How's it feel?"

 _"How...?"_ the skinwalker began to ask, but Buffy reached into my book bag and took the other test tube and threw it right at the skinwalker's face.

 _"AAIIIGGHHH,"_ the skinwalker bellowed and it looked as if his face was melting. Reddish, pink fluid began to leak from the flesh between the skinwalker's eyes and his nose actually seemed to be melting.

The skinwalker spat at Buffy and looked as it was getting ready to charge, but Buffy grabbed Spike's halberd off the floor and charged at him first.

Sometimes I forget how different Buffy is from normal human beings. Sometimes I forget how strong and fast she is, but when she rushed down the hallway with Spike's halberd, she moved so fast, I could barely even track her with my eyes. It was almost like trying to track a bullet.

When Buffy rammed the halberd into the skinwalker's chest, it didn't just penetrate his flesh, it perforated it. There was a huge gush of blood and Spike's weapon sunk in at least four feet deep. The skinwalker let out a loud, miserable bellow as he was skewered and his lifeblood exploded all over Buffy's face, Spike's halberd and the Skinwalker's torso.

 _"Aaaiiigghhhhh,"_ the Skinwalker protested loudly and miserably and then he collapsed in a loud and heavy heap.

For several seconds I watched the skinwalker's prone body on the floor. I kept expecting it to get back up and attack us, even more pissed off than ever. That's what the monsters always do in the movies.

Ten seconds went by, twenty seconds, thirty, but he still didn't get up. I let out a sigh of relief. It looked like the skinwalker was _really, really_ dead.

"Hey, I think we did it," I said, with obvious elation, "Let's celebrate!"

Buffy's face and hair were all covered in blood, but she smiled triumphantly and raised up one hand, palm facing me and exclaimed, "Go team Buffy!"

Buffy and I high-fived and I turned to look for Spike in case he wanted to get in on all the hand-slapping excitement, but we were suddenly surrounded.

There were at least a dozen frat boys and they were all carrying semi-automatic handguns, assault rifles or those high-tech electroshock weapons, like Riley had.

Some of the frat boys pointed their weapons at us. The others pointed their weapons at the body of the freshly-killed skinwalker. Nobody was shooting, which I thought was fortunate. Neither Buffy nor I are bulletproof, and looking down the barrel of an assault rifle was a new and frightening experience that had me paralyzed with fear again.

 _"The H.S.T. is down,"_ Riley yelled from across the room, _"I repeat the H.S.T. has been killed!"_

"There are two civilians here," yelled a frat boy with an assault rifle pointed me. He said it like it was an accusation, like being a civilian was just as bad as being a child molester or a terrorist.

There was a pause and Riley limped over to where we stood. His left leg was soaked in blood and he could barely stand. He looked pale and shaky. I think he was close to going into shock, due to blood loss.

"They helped to kill the H.S.T.," Riley declared, "Stand down. I'm granting them C.I.A. rights."

 _"Sir?"_ said the Alpha Delta frat boy as he lowered the barrel of his weapon. He looked dubious.

"That's an order," Riley said, firmly, "I have to go to the infirmary to get this leg stitched up, but when I get out of surgery, I expect to find that these two have been shown every courtesy due to them."

The guy still looked dubious, but he lowered the barrel of his weapon even lower and said, "Yes sir."

All the other frat boys lowered their weapons and Buffy made some sort of smartass remark about Riley granting us C.I.A. rights and did that mean we were now agents of the Central intelligence agency?

"Ma'am," replied a square-jawed, broad-shouldered frat boy, "Around here C.I.A. stand for _comrade in arms._ It usually refers to foreign soldiers or foreign law enforcement officers that aid us on the field of battle overseas. You're the first civilians I've ever seen granted C.I.A. rights."

From the way he said it, the frat boy seemed to think that Buffy and I getting C.I.A. rights was a really big deal, and we should be duly impressed by the honor. Personally I thought we'd earned it. We'd risked out lives to fight that skinwalker, and we'd killed it with improvised weapons, when a bunch of guys with semi-automatic weapons failed.

Trying to get into the spirit of the thing, I asked, "So, do we get a Comrade in Arms party and a rocket launcher?"

The frat boy didn't smile. He didn't even blink. With a totally straight face, he replied, "I can take you to our current base commander. He can give you a briefing on our organization while Agent Finn is receiving medical attention."

 

*** * * * * * * * ***

 

 _"No way,"_ Buffy gushed when she saw the secret base these guys had underneath their frat house. It was insanely huge. They had an infirmary, an armory, storage rooms, showers, and a mess hall, sleeping quarters, offices and even cells for locking up vampires and demons and stuff. They had a full-sized military base hidden underneath the school! It must have cost millions of dollars to build this!

It was around this time that I figured out these were the commando guys who had captured Spike and put that chip in his head. That must be why Spike disappeared right after we killed the skinwalker. Somehow he must have realized that they coming and he disappeared before they captured him again.

"Doctor Rostenkowski will be briefing you," the frat boy told us, "He's in charge now that Professor Walsh has been arrested."

 _"What?"_ Buffy exclaimed, "Professor Walsh used to be in charge of all of this?"

Buffy waved her arm dramatically at all the gun-toting soldiers, scientists and tech-support people going about their duties in the underground secret base, incredulous that our psychology professor could have been secretly in charge of this multi-million dollar secret military base.

About half a second later I blurted out a competing question, _"Professor Walsh has been arrested?"_

The frat boy rolled his eyes and said, "Doctor Rostenkowski will answer all your questions."

*** * * * * * * * * ***

Doctor Rostenkowski was a nerdy-looking man in a white lab coat. He was about my height and he wore reading glasses with really thick frames. I guessed that he could be anywhere from his mid-thirties to his early fifties, but I couldn't narrow down his age any better than that. He was an energetic man, who obviously had a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders and he seemed somewhat annoyed that the responsibility of briefing two teenage girls had just gotten added to his list. I also suspected that he didn't fully trust as, as he was flanked by two soldiers with handguns hanging from holsters at their waists.

The soldiers didn't speak. They just stood there, stone-faced, waiting for orders...or possibly for the next surprise attack. Who can say for certain?

"Walsh was arrested about five hours ago," Rostenkowski confirmed, "Two FBI agents came around and arrested her for murder. I don't know all the details, but apparently four scientists at Cal Tech were running tests on some new wonder drug. The FBI claims that the wonder drug was tampered with and the lab animals broke free from their cages and killed most of the research team. The feds thinks that Professor Walsh is the one who sabotaged the tests."

I was shocked. Professor Walsh was a world renowned scientist. Why would she sabotage the work of other scientists? I was just about to ask Doctor Rostenkowski about that, when he quickly added, "If she's still in custody by the end of the month, our section chief in Washington DC will be sending in somebody to replace her. Until that happens, I'm in charge of the Initiative...well, the Sunnydale base anyway."

"You call yourselves the Initiative?"

"Well, by definition, Initiative is the power or opportunity to take action before your opponent does, and we try to take action against things like vampires before they take action against us. Most vampires are technically American citizens, so we have to be super hush-hush about the very existence of the Initiative. We try to be both proactive and stealthy."

"You didn't take action against that skinwalker before he took action against you," Buffy observed, "He came in here and turned this place into a slaughterhouse before Willow and I showed up."

"Like I said, we _try_ to take proactive action against our opponents," Rostenkowski said, clearly annoyed, "We don't always succeed."

"At any rate," he said, changing the subject, "What's the name of your organization?"

I looked at Buffy and she looked at me. My face felt hot and Buffy looked somewhat embarrassed, but there was no way Buffy was going to lie. We were who we were. Having a cool name wasn't as important as getting results, and we had just scored a major victory against an opponent that had kicked the Initiative's ass.

"We're the Scoobies," Buffy said somewhat flatly, obviously not proud of the name, but not ashamed enough to lie about it.

Rostenkowski's mouth hung open without him saying anything, then one of his eyebrows raised up and finally he asked, "Your organization is named after _a Saturday morning cartoon?"_

 _"HEY!"_ I protested.

"Not just _any_ Saturday morning cartoon," Buffy said defensively, "We're named after a cartoon where meddling kids always foil the plots of unscrupulous adults. I'm constantly foiling the plots of people who are much older than I am."

"Sometimes we foil the plots of people who are hundreds of years older than we are," I added helpfully, attempting to support Buffy's argument.

"Please tell me you don't drive around town in a van with a talking Great Dane," Rostenkowski pleaded.

"Nope," Buffy replied mercifully.

"No talking dogs," I confirmed, "And no vans. Oz owned a van, but he left town months ago, and I don't think he's ever coming back."

"Well, thank goodness for small favors," Rostenkowski said, pulling out a chair and sitting down at his desk.

"Listen, the two of you helped us out _a lot_ today. Our guys were getting killed up there and nothing we did to that thing upstairs seemed to even slow it down. If you two hadn't shown up and killed it...I don't even know what would have happened."

"You're welcome," Buffy said, sounding slightly arrogant.

"That being said, we're both working the same town and we both seem to have a similar agenda. I'd like to propose an alliance. We could probably accomplish a lot more working together than we could working separately."

Buffy looked over at me, and I looked at her. There was a sort of non-verbal communication as we considered Rostenkowski's offer. Not so long ago, we had worked with the Watcher's Council. That didn't always work to our advantage. Sometimes people from the Watcher's Council were evil, but they had resources that Buffy and I didn't have and sometimes that was a big help.

"So, an alliance," Buffy said hesitantly, "What would that mean?"

"Nothing big," Doctor Rostenkowski said, "Mostly it would be information sharing. If you run across a new threat like the skinwalker, you let us know about it. If we run across some new threat, we'll let the Scoobies know about it. And we'll share useful information, like how...how did you kill that skinwalker? We shot it with semi-automatic weapons and it just pissed him off!"

 

I smiled awkwardly at that. Buffy got a similar awkward smile on her face and opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out. I ended up answering for her.

"The skinwalker had mystic defenses," I explained, "You could shoot him, stab him, run him over with a bus; but unless you took down his mystic defenses, he'd recover almost instantly."

"Okay, so what did you do? Are you two wizards or something?"

Buffy pointed at me and made an attempt to form a sentence, but it came out, "She, um, her."

"I'm a witch," I elaborated, "I was able to whip up a potion that messed with the skinwalker's mystic defenses. It made him vulnerable."

"You see, _this_ is the sort of thing that the Initiative would want out of the alliance. Could you whip us up a bunch of that potion? Because if that thing had any brothers or sisters, we're gonna need that stuff, when they come sniffing around."

"Um, okay," I said hesitantly. Buffy had already worked my pussy pretty enthusiastically today. I wasn't at all sure I could perform sexually like that again for a while, but I'd do what I could.

"It's a difficult potion to make," I explained, "It takes time, but I'll get you some as soon as I can."

"Can you teach us how to make it? I've got a degree in microbiology. I doubt potion making is any more complicated than that."

My jaw dropped and I sat there speechless for a few seconds, as I considered how embarrassing it would be to explain to this bespectacled nerd how I made the potion by getting naked and having Buffy lavish attention on my pussy until I was soaking wet between my legs and panting like a marathon runner, coming up on the finish line.

"Sorry, I can't," I explained, "Witch's code; there are certain things we're not allowed to tell outsiders. I could invoke the wrath of the goddess by divulging sacred knowledge to a non-witch."

Buffy put a hand over her mouth and covered a smile. Buffy knew all about how I made this potion and she obviously found my cover story amusing. It was bullshit, but it was entertaining bullshit."

"Whatever," Doctor Rostenkowski conceded, "I know better than to argue religious doctrine against religious people. I grew up with a Catholic father and a Jewish mother and I could never win a religious argument against either one of them."

In the end, I agreed to get them as much potion as I could, as quickly as I could make it. Buffy and I both agreed that we would share information with the Initiative that we thought they would find useful. They promised to do the same for us.

The question of Buffy and Initiative soldiers fighting side-by-side was left unresolved. Buffy and Rostenkowski basically were going to work that one out on a case-by-case basis. We also agreed to each keep the other's secrets. We both did a lot of covert work, so we both understood the importance of not blabbing, and staying undercover.  
**  
* * * * * * * * * ***

When we left the Initiative's secret base, I was stunned at the cleanup job they had down on Lowell House. All the dead bodies had been removed. All of the blood was gone. All of the bullet holes had mysteriously disappeared. I walked through the halls of the frat house, but I couldn't see a single sign that there had ever been a battle.

"Think I can get those guys to clean up next time there's a mess at our place?" Buffy asked.

"It's weird," I commented, "There were gallons of blood on the walls and the floors...and blood stains are really difficult to get out. How they get all the blood stains out?"

"And so quickly," Buffy added.

"And the bullet holes."

"Well, we supposedly have an alliance with these guys now," Buffy observed, "Next time someplace I live at gets trashed by zombies or lust-crazed women under the influence of a spell, I'm calling those guys to do the cleanup."  
**  
* * * * * * * * * ***

Doctor Rostenkowski swore us to secrecy, but I was pretty sure that rule didn't apply to the Scoobies, so I figured Buffy and I could still tell Giles and Xander about the Initiative.

And technically I thought we should count Justine as a Scooby now. We had told her all about Buffy being a slayer and me casting spells. Oh, and Tara and Terri were part of the gang now. And I suppose even Spike should be counted as a Scooby now. He actually helped us kill the skinwalker and he was keen to kill demons now.  
**  
* * * * * * * * * ***

"Piss off."

 _"What?"_ Buffy asked, incredulous.

"I said piss off," Spike reiterated. "Those wankers locked me in a cage and turned me into a bloody lab rat for their secret science experiments. When you and I had those soldier boys as common enemies, we could be friends, but if you're going to be best buddies with the soldier boys, you can bloody-well piss off."

"We're not best buddies," I protested, "We've just entered into a sort of alliance with them. The rules of our alliance are still being worked out, but I'm sure can-"

"An alliance with the guys who put me in a cage? And how long will it be before they're asking you to help them find Hostile 17, so they can turn him into a lab rat again?"

"Who's Hostile 17?" I asked.

"That's the name they gave me," Spike explained, "They couldn't call me by my vampire name. They had to give me a bloody laboratory name. They took away my identity and put a bloody chip in my head. That's dishonorable, that is. At least Buffy was always an honorable foe, trying to kill me and whatnot. That's what a _proper_ opponent does. None of this locking Spike up in a cage and doing medical experiments bollocks."

"It's not like we're going to tell them where you are," I protested, "It's just a tentative alliance. All we've really agreed to do is some intelligence sharing and some-"

"Oh, intelligence sharing, that's just brilliant, that is," Spike said, interrupting me, "Intelligence like 'where the hell is that vampire that escaped from our mad laboratory'?"

"It's not like that," I protested.

Spike gave Buffy and I a long, hard, assessing look and finally replied, "Maybe not yet, but you get into bed with these soldier boys today, and five weeks from now, you'll be leading them straight to me."

He paused and then added, "Maybe six weeks. I'll give you enough credit to assume that you'll hold out a few more days before you let them corrupt you."

 _"Spike,"_ Buffy snapped at him, but Spike wasn't interested in hearing anything she had to say.

"You know what?" Spike said. "It's almost Christmas time. Maybe I'll head north, someplace where they have snow. Russia and Sweden have both got some awesome demons that a guy like me could fight. So does Canada, if you know where to look for them."

"You're leaving town?"

"Well, _yeah,"_ Spike replied as if he were talking to an exceptionally thick child, "Fighting demons in the snows of Siberia would be a lot more fun than being a lab rat for the Initiative's medical experiments. See ya around, kiddies. Merry Christmas and Happy Boxing Day and all that."  
**  
* * * * * * * * * ***

"So, the storm troopers guys that we've been looking for live underneath the Alpha Delta fraternity house?" Xander asked, "They're just frat guys with guns?"

"Well, it's a little more complicated than that, Xand'," Buffy explained.

"They're more like undercover government agents who're pretending to be frat guys," I elaborated.

"Hey, you didn't tell them about the rocket launcher I stole from that military base, did ya?" Xander asked, acting suddenly alarmed, "Because if they're government agents, I think it would turn out bad if they ever learned about that."

"Don't worry, Xand'," Buffy said, giving Xander a comforting half-hug, "We're not being stupid. We're only sharing information with them, if it's something we think they need to know about."

"And we didn't think they needed to know about us stealing weapons from the army," I added helpfully.

 

*** * * * * * * * * ***

"So, the United States government has built a multi-million dollar military base underneath your school?" Giles asked, "This would have taken a tremendous amount of excavation and construction. How did nobody notice this?"

"People in Sunnydale seem to have a talent for not noticing things," I responded, "Like the fact that we had the same mayor running the town since the 1800s."

Giles seemed to mull this over for a few seconds and finally responded simply with, "Quite."

"But this is all kinds of good, right?" Buffy asked, "I mean we've got lots of heavily armed soldiers in town who want to kill the demons and vampires just as much as I do. How cool would it be to have a dozen highly-trained soldiers backing me up next time I went on patrol?"

Giles seemed to be lost in thought and took his time answering Buffy. When he put his glasses back on his face, he finally responded, "Perhaps, but I'm somewhat concerned about the Initiative's long term goals here in Sunnydale."

"You think they're up to no good?"

"I didn't say that, precisely," Giles responded, "However secret organizations always have secret agendas. Sometimes those agendas can be benevolent, however without oversight and transparency, you can sometimes end up with something sinister."  
**  
* * * * * * * * * ***

_"Wait! Professor Walsh is a murderer?"_

"Okay, Terri, I just told you that there's a secret military base underneath the school, and you're more concerned about the lady who teaches psych?"

"Willow, I've _met her,"_ Terri protested, __"I stood less than six feet away from her in the faculty parking lot and got roped into a conversation with her and professor Ivins on the university's policies on sexual assault! I stood this close to her,"_ Terri insisted holding her hands about a meter apart._

"So, what _ _ _was_ __ her position on sexual assault?" I asked, "Was she for it, or against it?"

 ___"Willow,"_ __ Terri exclaimed, irritably, _ __"She's a murderer and she was standing close enough, she could have shoved a knife into my trachea!"__ _

__"__ Technically, she hasn't been convicted yet," Tara said, "She's just been arrested. Maybe she's innocent."

"The FBI wouldn't have arrested her without some kickass evidence," Terri countered.

"The FBI does have higher standards than the Sunnydale Police Department," I said, somewhat buttressing Terri's argument.

"They probably investigated the crap out of her before they finally made an arrest," Buffy added.

"She's a scientist," Tara protested, "She's a neuroscientist as well as an award-winning psychologist and author! She's really, really smart! Why would somebody like that resort to murder?"

"Haven't you ever seen an episode of Columbo?" Buffy asked, "Smart people commit murder all the time."

Terri stood behind Tara and hugged her affectionately around the waist and said, "Evil genius, sweetheart."

"It might have been professional jealousy," I suggested, "Maybe those scientists with their new wonder drug succeeded in something that she had been working on. Scholarly people can get really ticked off sometimes if their peers show them up and do better than them academically."

There was a pause of about a second and a half and then Buffy replied, "Hey, am I gonna have to worry, if I start getting better grades than you?"

I gave Buffy a shocked look.

I mean, _ _the very _idea!_ __ Buffy getting better grades than me? Like _ __that's___ ever gonna happen!

*** * * * * * * * * ***

Saturday morning, I woke up groggy and rolled over in bed. Buffy lay beside me in the dark room and muttered something about a dairy gnome. I ignored her and closed my eyes. There were no classes and I had no intentions of getting about of bed any time soon.

Then, my blissful slumber was rudely interrupted by Terri opening up the door to my bedroom, spilling in light from the hallway and enthusiastically exclaiming, _ __"Buffy! Willow! Wake up! It's Christmas Morning!!"__ _

__

__"__ Sid?" Buffy mumbled, groggily, still halfway in a dream.

"No, it's Terri," I explained.

"And I believe that's _ _ _Hanukkah Morning,_ __ little missy. Not everybody in this house worships Santa."

 __"__ Have it your way," Terri countered, "There's breakfast in the kitchen and Hanukkah presents in the living room."

 ___"Ooh, presents! Goodie,"___ Buffy exclaimed, suddenly much more awake and alert.

I staggered off into the kitchen and got myself a cup of coffee, while Terri and Buffy staked out positions around the Hanukkah tree and organized presents into four separate piles; one for Buffy, one for Tara, one for Terri and one for me.

 __"__ Open the presents from me, first," Terri urged us all enthusiastically.

Terri is like this unstoppable whirlwind when she gets excited about something, so Buffy and I knew better than to argue with her. And Tara absolutely adores Terri, so she'll do whatever Terri says. We all tore the wrapping off of Terri's presents to us and discovered that Terri had gotten us all some very expensive-looking panties with smartass sayings on them.

Mine were low-rise, black bikini panties. They were stretchy enough that I knew they must be a nylon/spandex mix and across the butt; in big white letters were the words, **"SMART ASS"**.

"You're the smartest one in the group," Terri explained, "So, I thought those were perfect for you."

"Thanks," I said. They really looked stylish and expensive. I just always assumed that if anybody ever bought me lingerie as a gift, it would be somebody I was romantically involved with, not Terri.

Buffy's were white bikini panties, although the coverage in the back looked smaller. She'd definitely reveal more of her lower butt-cheeks when she wore hers, but the main point of interest was the message on the front that declared, **"RESTRICTED ACCESS: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY** ".

When I saw the message on Buffy's panties, I got a worried look on my face and pouted, "Uh oh. Does that mean I'm not allowed to get into your panties anymore?"

"Don't worry, Will," Buffy said, reassuring me, "You're still authorized." Then she leaned forward and gave me a hug. It was a warm and sisterly hug, not as sexy and passionate as a hug before sex, but a hug that was comforting and made me feel safe, secure and loved.

"Too bad you didn't have those when you were dating Parker," Terri observed.

 ___"Ugh,"___ Buffy exclaimed. "Can we have a house rule to never mention his name ever again?"

Tara was the shy one and didn't want to show off her new panties, but after much coaxing and pleading, she eventually showed us what Terri had bought her.

On the front of her panties, were the words, **"STOP STARING AT MY CROTCH"** and on the back were the words, **"STOP STARING AT MY BUTT."**

 __"__ Yeah, _ _that'll__ work," Buffy said sarcastically _ _._ _

"So, when are you all going to model your new panties and let me see how you look in them?" Terri asked enthusiastically.

"Um, about a quarter after never," I replied defiantly.

"Oh, c'mon, Willow," Terri said argumentatively, "I've already seen you naked! Now, I'm banned from seeing how your butt looks in the new panties that I bought you?"

 ___"What?"_ __ Tara inquired somewhat surprised and her gaze went from Terri to me and back to Terri again, "You saw Willow naked? Why?"

Tara had a worried look on her face. Terri gave her a reassuring smile and held Tara close, giving her a comforting hug.

"It was last month, Sweetie," Terri explained, "I was out jogging on campus and Willow was walking across the lawn of Stevenson Hall, without a stitch of clothing on. Apparently it's something kinky that she and Buffy do."

 ___"Naked? Out in public?"___ Tara asked incredulously, _ __"With all the students and teachers watching?"__ _

Buffy and I both shook our heads in negation and Buffy explained, "It was late at night and it was on Thanksgiving Day, so most of the students had gone home for the holiday. The risk of anybody seeing her was like, about a quadrillion to one."

"Terri saw her," Tara protested.

"Yeah, I'm kinda fighting with my family right now," Terri explained, "So I really didn't wanna go home for the holidays. Fighting with your family on Thanksgiving is such a cliché."

"Oh yeah," Tara said, "I get that."

There was a pause as Tara snuggled comfortably in Terri's embrace and then she asked, "Can I see Willow naked? At least then we'll be even and I won't have to be jealous of you anymore."

 ___"Tara,"_ __ I exclaimed, offended at the suggestion that I strip naked for her. Tara flinched at the vehement way that I called out her name.

 ___"Oh, c'mon, Will,"_ ____"__ Buffy said admonishingly, "It's not _ __that___ unreasonable."

"I'm uncomfortable with nudity," I protested, "It makes me all nervous! I only got naked on Thanksgiving because you did the voice!"

 ___"The voice?"_ __ Tara asked.

"Her prison-guard of cell-block-D voice," I elaborated, "It's this really stern, authoritarian voice she does sometimes. It makes me go all gooey inside. It's like I'm helpless to resist when she uses that voice."

"You are?" Terri asked, with a devilish grin on her face. Then she made eye contact with Buffy. Buffy and Terri both shared a mischievous grin and I had about a second to feel scared at the meaning behind those smiles before things took a seriously kinky turn.

"Take off your pajamas, Will," Buffy snapped suddenly, using her prison-guard of cell-block-D voice, _ _ _"Now!"__ _

As I predicted, the voice made me go all gooey inside. That voice had more authority in it than the voice of my parents, my rabbi and all of my high school teachers combined. My face felt hot, my heartbeat sped up and my breathing sped up. I was halfway through unbuttoning the buttons on my pajama top before I even realized what my hands were doing. It was like that voice bypassed my higher brain functions completely and went directly to the part of my brain that controlled my libido and motor skills. That voice made my pussy throb, my heart beat faster and made me feel hot and feverish.

And then; much to my amazement; I was standing there in the living room with my pajamas on the floor, wearing nothing but a pair of panties, with Buffy, Terri and Terri's girlfriend all staring at me.

"Panties too," Buffy commanded, using her prison guard voice once again.

 ___"Buffy, please,"_ __ I begged. As long as I had my panties, I'd at least have ___some___ dignity left.

"That's Corrections Officer Summers, to you," Buffy barked, _ _ _"Now strip!"__ _

Somehow the voice made it alright. I wasn't stripping naked because I was a naughty little girl. I was stripping naked in front of my friends because the voice was impossible to resist. I couldn't possibly be blamed for exposing myself, if I was obeying orders from the voice.

And so I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and felt no guilt as I tugged them down and let them fall to the floor. Terri and Tara's eyes immediately focused intently on my clean-shaven vulva and my clearly visible pubic lips.

"Oh wow," Tara exclaimed, her voice weak and barely audible. She looked really surprised with what she saw, but in a happy way. I guess she'd never seen a female my age before, with a hairless pussy.

"She looks so smooth and exposed," Tara said, sounding absolutely captivated by my shaved crotch. Then to her girlfriend she asked, "Would you be willing to shave yours like that?"

"You first," Terri insisted, "I'm not going to take a razor to my most tender parts, unless you're brave enough to do it too."

Tara looked down, avoiding eye contact with her girlfriend. I suspected that she wouldn't be brave enough to shave her own pubic hair, thus leaving Terri's pubes safe as well. Tara seemed to be not very brave or adventurous when it came to this stuff.

"Will, give us a spin," Buffy prompted me, while making a circular motion with her index finger, "Let 'em see the other side."

I had pretty much given up on resisting at this point. I'd already put my naked pubic lips on display for everybody in the room. Parading my naked butt around the room seemed like a minor thing by comparison.

I did a slow turn and ended up facing Buffy, while turning my back to Tara and Terri. Tara gasped and caused me to look over my shoulder at her.

Tara had a look of reverence on her face and exclaimed, "Oh my God, Willow! Your bottom is the perfect shape! I am so in love with it!"

Terri made a very loud throat-clearing noise in response to Tara's exclamation and after a second of confusion, realization dawned on Tara's face and she added, "I mean, it's not as nice as Terri's. Terri's butt is sculpted perfection, but yours is very nice too."

I smiled at the way Tara had maneuvered to avoid an argument with her girlfriend and asked, "Can I get dressed now?"

Buffy shook her head in negation, picked up my new panties off the floor and held them up for everyone to see.

"Not yet," she told me firmly, "You gotta model these for Terri first."

I sighed and took the proffered panties from Buffy's hand. At least wearing panties would leave me less exposed than being totally naked.

The new panties were tighter than I expected and left the bottom of my butt cheeks somewhat exposed, but at least I wasn't completely naked now.

"You're now officially a smartass," Tara declared, staring shamelessly at my butt.

"The smartest ass in the entire house," Terri added.

"Those look really good on you," Buffy said encouragingly.

Eventually, I was allowed to put my pajamas back on (much to Tara's disappointment) and we opened the rest of the presents. We actually got some pretty good stuff. Buffy got a custom-designed leather jacket from Giles with interior pockets big enough to hold weapons like her pistol crossbow.

Tara got me a moonstone that was supposedly enchanted. Tara claimed to have been practicing witchcraft far longer than I have and said that if I slept with the moonstone underneath my pillow, it would quite often induce prophetic dreams.

When I first met Tara, I had no idea she was into witchcraft. How cool and lucky that Terri introduced us!

When all of the presents were unwrapped, we picked up all the shredded gift wrap, tossed it in the garbage and went to our respective rooms to inventory our loot.

I dropped all of my Hanukkah gifts into one corner of my room until I had enough time to organize them, and then Buffy said, "Y'know, Will, there's still one present you haven't unwrapped yet."

"There is?" and I scanned all four corners of the room, examining them for any sign of a package covered in festive giftwrap.

Buffy snorted and said, _ __"It's me!___ Geez, Will, for a genius, you can be really slow sometimes!"

As Buffy admonished me, she unbuttoned the top two buttons on her pajama top. Now that I understood the rules, I was overjoyed to unwrap my last present of the day.

I stood in front of Buffy; close enough to kiss: and let my hands go down the front of her pajama shirt and unbutton the rest of the buttons. Buffy wasn't wearing a bra, so when I slid the shirt off her shoulders, she was naked from the waist up.

I took a few seconds to admire Buffy's tight, toned abs and her small, firm breasts with her perky pink nipples and Buffy chided me impatiently, saying, "Your haven't finished unwrapping your present yet, Will. You can't play with it until you finish unwrapping it."

" _ _Oh,"__ I exclaimed and dropped to my knees, pulling down Buffy's pajama bottoms as I went and then grabbing the waistband of her panties.

I enjoyed the feel of Buffy's firm thighs underneath my hands as I slid her panties down her legs. I've seen Buffy naked plenty of times, but somehow the sight of her naked body still makes me feel all warm and feverish and funny inside.

Kneeling in front of Buffy, her pussy was just a few inches from my face. I took a few seconds to admire the swollen folds of her labia. Like me; Buffy kept her pussy shaved; so there was nothing to conceal her pink, puffy pubic lips.

Her outer lips were swollen and inner lips were just barely visible as they were starting to unfurl. I leaned in close and blew on them softly. Buffy gasped and shrank back from my playful blowing. Her pubic lips must have been more sensitive than I first supposed.

"Did you just try to give me a blowjob?" Buffy asked, looking down at me. We both smiled at Buffy's little play on words and then she helped me up and stripped me naked much more quickly and efficiently than I stripped her.

When we were both naked, standing and facing each other, Buffy grabbed my buttocks with one hand and cradled the back of my head with the other. Buffy kneaded my buttocks and thrust her tongue into my mouth, making me moan. I wrapped my arms around Buffy's torso and; as I kissed her; I ran my hands up and down her naked body. My hands roamed across her naked buttocks, her hips, her waist, her ribcage and her thighs. Everywhere I touched, there was hard, athletic muscle underneath soft skin. It was a delicious combination and I felt a tingly thrill that this perfect body belonged to my girlfriend and I could touch it pretty much any time I felt like it.

Buffy continued to kiss me hungrily and probe my mouth with her tongue, but her hands had changed position and now one of them had snaked between my thighs and I felt two fingers seeking entrance into my vagina.

I moaned into Buffy's mouth and separated my thighs, allowing Buffy easier access to my sex. My pussy was wet and my clit was swollen at this point and when Buffy's strong fingers impaled the center of my womanhood, I felt one spasm after another ripple through my body. I writhed, squirmed and made passionate noises as Buffy's fingers invaded my tight vagina and her tongue invaded my mouth.  
  
__"Hhuh, Aaaghhhh, Mmhhh, Uuuhhhh, Aaahhhh,"_ _ I moaned into Buffy's mouth as she crushed her lips to mine, probed my mouth with her tongue and probed my pussy far deeper and far more forcefully with her strong, athletic fingers.

God, I could feel them! Knuckles! Fingertips! Banging me wide open and probing me deep. My legs trembled and I held on to Buffy tightly for balance. Buffy wrapped one arm around me and held me close while furiously fucking my palpitating pussy with her iron-like fingers.

I moaned and whimpered into Buffy's mouth as Buffy's fingers rode me. Her fingers worked in and out, up and down and I shuddered in delight as Buffy fucked me. She briefly withdrew her slick fingers from my throbbing pussy, causing me to whimper at their absence, but a moment later she impaled me again, on three fingers this time!

I groaned, grunted and whimpered as Buffy thrust inside of me, hard and deep, one powerful, merciless thrust after another until I came.

When I finally came, I spasmed, shuddered and convulsed and would have fallen to the floor if not for Buffy's strong arm wrapped around me and holding me close.

 ___"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh,"_ __ I screamed as Buffy and I broke from our kiss and I was overwhelmed with a howling storm of sensory gratification. My orgasm seemed to go on for days and days. There was just wave after wave of orgasmic force that rolled over top of me and shook my entire body.

I ended up lying face up on the bed, panting heavily and looking up at Buffy. My legs didn't work and my breasts heaved up and down due to my labored breathing, as the orgasmic afterglow lingered and felt absolutely magical.

Then my beautiful girlfriend looked down at my panting nudity, smiled and said, "Happy Hanukkah."

Oh yeah, Happy Hanukkah indeed.


	5. The Doctor visits the Hellmouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Martha Jones travel back in time to the year 2000, in an attempt to stop Adam before he goes online.

I love Xander, but sometimes he's not very smart. 

He had spent months worrying about Y2K, insisting that on January 1, 2000, there was a very good chance that computers – which ran everything – would get confused and misinterpret the year as 1900, leading to a number of potential catastrophes. Elevators would get stuck. Airplanes would just stop flying. ATMs would break down. Launch codes for nuclear devices would accidentally be triggered. I told him not to worry and tried to explain to him about software upgrades, but he just wouldn't listen to me. 

And then, on January 1, 2000, none of his scary predictions came to pass and he was all embarrassed. 

"But those guys on Fox News were so _sure,"_ Xander protested, "They came out with an investigative special report called "Danger on the Internet Highway: Cyber terror". They said the next Armageddon was almost here. They said cyberterrorism was taking the Internet to its most lethal level! They said lots and lots of people were going to die!" 

I rolled my eyes and tried really hard not to snap at Xander. Fox News isn't really into journalism and fact-checking. They were more into fear mongering and melodrama. 

Fox News had also came out with an investigative special report called, "The Clinton Body Count: Coincidence or the Kiss of Death?" that contained the names of 34 people they claimed had died suspiciously and who had ties to the Clinton family. Nobody at Fox had any direct evidence of Clinton's killing anyone, however that didn't stop them from attempting to make President Clinton sound as guilty as a fox leaving the henhouse with a freshly killed chicken held firmly in his bloody jaws. 

"Xander," I protested, "You've got to stop watching them. I'm pretty sure they're not a real news channel." 

"But they look so professional," Xander protested, "They wear suits and ties and have a really impressive-looking studio. And they just recently hired a former U.S. Congressman to come work for them." 

I deliberately steered the conversation away from Fox News and tried to interest Xander in seeing the new Sigourney Weaver movie. 

What?" Xander asked, "Sigourney Weaver did another movie? Is this an Aliens sequel? I loved the first four Alien movies she did." 

Xander sounded enthusiastic for a fifth Alien movie, but I patted him on the shoulder and said, "It's not really one of those." 

"There's a race called the Thermians," I said, trying to explain. "They're being oppressed and killed off by the Sarris Dominion. Sigourney Weaver is part of a group of humans who are recruited to help the Thermians..." 

"Let me stop you right there, Will," Xander said, interrupting me, "These Thermians are aliens, right?" 

"Well, yeah," I admitted, somewhat annoyed at being interrupted in mid-sentence. 

"And the Sarris Dominion, they're aliens too, right?" 

I gave Xander my annoyed face and said, "Of course they are. They're both aliens from another galaxy." 

"Sounds like an Alien sequel to me," Xander said with an arrogant, yet playful look on his face. 

See what I mean? He's lovable, but not very smart. He takes so much looking after. 

I tried to explain the new Sigourney Weaver movie to him again, however as I explained, I let him into my house and led him back towards my bedroom. I had a movie poster back there and it showed Sigourney Weaver with her long, stylish, blonde hair and her boobs popping out of the top of her custom-fit uniform. She didn't look anything like the tough, ungroomed, battle-weary character she played in the alien movies. 

But, when Xander and I arrived in my bedroom, we weren't alone. We had a very unwelcome houseguest going through Buffy's things and putting on her clothes. 

_"Oh my God,"_ Xander exclaimed, _"Faith?"_

I had kind of hoped we could sneak out of my room without Faith noticing us, but Xander had ruined that plan. Faith stopped what she was doing and looked right at us. 

"Hey, Xander," Faith said, sounding somewhat detached, almost as if she was barely aware of Xander's presence. 

I made eye contact with Xander. He made eye contact with me. We both had inquisitive-face. There was something not quite right about Faith. The last time we had seen her she was all evil and going on a killing spree. Now, she seemed calm, unflappable and relaxed. 

"Um, Faith," I said, in a cautious tone of voice, "What are you doing here?" 

"Oh, hey, Red," Faith said, as if she was only just now noticing I was in the room, "I needed some clothes. I was told B lived here now, and she and I are basically the same size. I kinda figured she wouldn't mind if I borrowed a few things." 

That's when I noticed the white lab coat on the floor of my bedroom. Faith probably grabbed that from the hospital and wore that while she traveled from the hospital, to here. The lab coat would've covered Faith from her shoulders to her shins. She probably wouldn't have needed to wear anything else, for the short trip from the hospital. 

That answered one question, but on the heels of that a whole army of other questions popped into my head. Who told Faith where Buffy and I live now? How the hell did Faith wake up from an irreversible coma? And how had Faith gone from a merciless killer, to a dispassionate laggard? 

"And who was it that told you Buffy lived here now?" I asked, hoping that Faith's clam, unflappable state would last long enough to get her to answer a few more questions. 

"Hypnos," Faith replied, "He knows all about B. He told me where she lives. He also told me to borrow her clothes, before I went on my mission. You can't go on a mission without pants and shoes, Y'know?" 

"Um, yeah, I've always said that," Xander replied, "If you're gonna save the world, you should put on some pants first." 

"So, this mission," I said, still pumping Faith for information, "It doesn't involve killing anybody, does it?" 

Faith zipped up her jeans and snapped the snap closed. She paused for a few seconds, as if considering my question and finally replied, "I dunno. Maybe. It all depends. There's these guys that have kidnapped Hypnos. They think they're wizards. Actually, they're just a bunch of talented amateurs, who got lucky with a spell. I might have to kill some of them if they get in my way. It's really their call. If they stay out of my way while I do my thing, I shouldn't have to kill anybody." 

"Uh huh," I said, still watching Faith for any sudden, violent movements, "And where are these talented amateurs holed up?" 

Faith ignored my most recent question and finished getting dressed. She had bigger boobs than Buffy, so she was busting out of Buffy's bra like some sort of cleavage-y slut-bomb, but everything else seemed to fit. 

I noticed that the outfit she put together from Buffy's clothes was decidedly monochromatic. She wore black panties, black jeans, a black bra, a black t-shirt and black boots. She was definitely going for a theme here. 

"Listen guys," Faith said, looking at both of us, "I was a total bitch before I went into that coma. Hypnos kinda lectured me and made me feel guilty for all the crap that I did to you two, and I totally suck at apologies, but if I'm still alive after I'm done rescuing Hypnos from his kidnappers, I'll come back and I'll treat you better. I won't be a total bitch like I was last time." 

"Um, that would be nice," I said, still watching for any sudden, violent movements, but I was starting to relax now. I was fairly certain that Faith had undergone a transformation of some sort and wouldn't be killing anybody anytime soon. 

"I'm gonna solve all of Hypnos's problems and then he's gonna solve mine," Faith said, "And if all that works out, I'll come back to Sunnydale and we can hang." 

On the way out, Faith gave Xander a hug. Xander let out a startled gasp and he visibly flinched, but he managed not to scream like a girl. Like me, Xander was nervous and cautious about any physical contact with Faith, but all she wanted was a hug. She wasn't offering any violence. 

Faith released her grip on Xander, and then suddenly she was hugging me. It was a nice hug, not too soft, not too hard. And while we were pressed close together, she whispered in my ear, "Hypnos told me about you and B. I didn't know that Buffy was into girls, but now that I know I am totally kicking myself for not making a play for her myself." 

Then Faith released me from the hug and walked out of the room. Within seconds she was out of the house, and Xander loudly inquired, "Okay, did all that just really happen?" 

I just stared at Xander for a few seconds, too shell-shocked to speak. 

"Yeah," I finally responded, "We need to tell Giles." 

"And Buffy," Xander added. 

"Buffy is with Doctor Rostenkowski," I said, "I'll go tell Buffy." 

Doctor Rostenkowski was in the Initiative's secret base underneath the Alpha Delta fraternity house. There was no way Xander would be able to get in there, but I was considered a comrade in arms of the Initiative, so I could get in. 

"I'll go tell Giles," Xander offered and we both split up. ****

*** * * * * * * * * ***

"Faith is awake and walking around?" Buffy said, sounding stunned, "I thought she was in an irreversible coma. How can she be awake?" 

"That's what I said," I countered, and "I mean, I didn't say it out loud, but I was thinking it really hard!" 

"Who is Faith?" Doctor Rostenkowski asked, breaking into the conversation between Buffy and me. 

"She's a friend," I said, then I added, "Well, first she was a friend, then she was an enemy, then she was in a coma. I guess I'm not sure what she is right now." 

"A coma-frenemy?" Doctor Rostenkowski ventured. 

"We should find her," Buffy said urgently, "Now! Will, do you have any idea where she went?" 

I shook my head in negation, "All she said was she was on a mission." 

"Do you have a photo of her?" Doctor Rostenkowski asked. 

"Not here," Buffy replied, "But I've got a few back at my house." 

"Bring some photos in," Doctor Rostenkowski suggested, "There are a couple of federal agencies that can access the video feed of most of the airports in America. If you give them a good photograph of Faith, they can scan it, run all the video from the airport security cameras and let the facial recognition software see if there's a match. If she goes to almost any airport in America today, we can probably find her." 

Buffy raised a quizzical eyebrow at this revelation and said, "You know, I got a C-minus in civics class, but I'm pretty sure that level of surveillance is a violation of our rights to be free from unreasonable search and seizure." 

Doctor Rostenkowski got an exasperated look on his face, then in an indignant tone of voice, he asked, "Look, do you want to find your coma-frenemy or not?" 

Buffy never had a chance to answer, because just then the door to Doctor Rostenkowski's office burst open and two incongruous people waltzed in. 

"Excuse me," the first one said, "I'm looking for the person in charge. I'm Doctor John Smith, of the I.A.E.A. and this is my colleague, Doctor Martha Jones." 

Doctor Smith had a charming British accent, was tall and thin and was almost dressed like you would expect a respectable government employee to dress. 

I mean, he was wearing a suit and tie, but he was also wearing high-top sneakers, and I'm pretty sure most government agencies have dress codes that would insist on their employees wear some sort of more serious footwear. 

Doctor Jones was a very attractive, young, black woman. She was also slender, although not as tall as Doctor Smith. Her attire would pass muster for most government agency dress codes. She wore a long-sleeved V-neck dress shirt, dress slacks and stylish, black leather boots. 

Both of them were holding up their I.D.s that identified them as employees of the International Atomic Energy Agency. 

"I'm in charge, here" Doctor Rostenkowski announced, sounding much more irked with Doctor Smith than he was with Buffy, "I'm Doctor Rostenkowski, and how the hell did you get in here? This is a top secret federal government installation! How did you even know how to _find_ this place?" 

"Oh, that," Doctor Smith said dismissively, as if he waltzed into secret government bases all the time. 

"Our office received a call from Senator Chafee's office," Doctor Jones cut in. She had a charming British accent too. 

"Yes, Senator Chafee," Doctor Smith agreed, "He had some concerns about the CU1108 containment unit, housing the uranium power core for your project 314. He doesn't think it's safe. He's actually quite worried about the danger of radiation contamination."   
_  
"Chafee?"_ Rostenkowski exclaimed, indignantly, his face now starting to turn red with outrage, "If he had safety concerns, he should have taken them to _me!_ Going behind my back like this to the IAEA, I could have him arrested for divulging national security secrets! _This is outrageous!"_

"Well, I don't know about outrageous," Doctor Smith said, seemingly oblivious to how irate Doctor Rostenkowski was, "Perhaps a little unorthodox." 

"And I could have you and Doctor Jones arrested for trespassing," Rostenkowski accused, "Don't' either one of you move!" 

Rostenkowski pointed a finger at Doctor Smith and Doctor Jones and then he picked up the receiver of his phone and punched in some numbers. If I was a betting woman, I would have bet that he was calling Senator Chafee. 

Doctor Smith and Doctor Jones didn't step away from where they were standing, although I noticed that Doctor Smith pulled out a device from his inner jacket pocket and there was a brief visible flash of blue light before he removed his hand from his jacket pocket. 

Doctor Rostenkowski put the phone receiver back in its cradle just a few seconds after he picked it up. He looked deflated. 

"The phones are dead," He said bitterly, "That's never happened before." 

"I'm sure it's not anything serious," Doctor Smith said, "I'm sure it's not a radiation leak, damaging your communications technology."   
_  
"What?"_ Doctor Rostenkowski snapped, "Look there's no reason to suspect a radiation leak! And there's no reason to suspect that the CU1108 containment unit won't keep everyone on this base safe!" 

No matter how angry Doctor Rostenkowski got, Doctor Smith still remained calm and composed. "Well, not during the first 300 hours of use anyway," Doctor Smith said, "After that, I wouldn't trust it very much." 

"What are you saying?" Doctor Rostenkowski asked, suddenly sounding more curious than angry. 

"Well, according to the IAEA's data, the CU01108 performs just fine during the first 300 hours of continuous use, but after that, there are usually significant problems with radiation leakage, sometimes levels as high as 600,000 micro-Sieverts per hour." 

For a long time Doctor Rostenkowski didn't say anything. 

"600,000 micro-Sieverts?" he finally asked Doctor Smith. 

Both Doctor Smith and Doctor Jones nodded in agreement. 

Frowning, Doctor Rostenkowski said, "Miss Summers, why don't you and Miss Rosenberg go home. You two find a good photo of your coma-frenemy and bring it back here. By the time you return, I should be finished with Smith and Jones here." 

"That's the spirit, Rostenkowski," Doctor Smith said enthusiastically, and the five of us all left Doctor Rostenkowski's office. 

Doctor Rostenkowski threatened Smith and Jones with charges of espionage if either one of them talked about anything they learned about project 314. This threat utterly failed to intimidate either member of the IAEA, however they promised that they would keep quiet about anything they saw. 

It seemed like everything was settled, until we rounded a corner at the end of a long hallway and encountered some something out of a nightmare. 

About fifty feet down the next hallway there were four dead soldiers lying on the floor, their blood splattered everywhere, and a fifth soldier was dangling from the grasp of a tall, menacing, humanoid creature that was utterly unlike any of the demon-y things I'd seen in Sunnydale before. Parts of his skin were a grotesque green color, like the skin of a sinensis demon, other parts of his skin looked quite human. The two wildly divergent skin-types seems to be held together with medical staples, and to top it all off, this creature seemed to have stainless steel armor grafted on top of his skin in totally random locations. 

**"HUMANS,"** the patchwork demon-y thing said as he calmly and easily broke the fifth soldier's neck, **"YOU HAVE AN UNIMPRESSIVE PHYSIOLOGY AND SHORT LIFESPANS, AND YET YOU CLASSIFY YOURSELVES AS THE DOMINANT SPECIES ON THIS PLANET."**

""Oh, bloody hell, we're too late," Doctor Smith exclaimed, suddenly looking very pale, "Project 314 is already online." 

Then, turning to Doctor Rostenkowski, the demon-y thing dropped the dead body of the fifth soldier on the floor and said, **"DOCTOR ROSTENWOSKI, EXPLAIN THIS CONTRADICTION TO ME."**

With a look of panicked frustration on his face, Doctor Smith turned to all of us and yelled, _"Run!"_

Running actually sounded like a good plan to me, however my girlfriend is The Slayer, and it's her job to stand against vampires, demons and other supernatural threats. It's her job to kill the things that would threaten humanity, so rather than run away, Buffy charged straight forward and launched a flying kick attack that landed high up on the creature's abdomen, right in the solar plexus. 

_"No,"_ Doctor Smith protested, "Run _away_ from the scary cyborg demon thing! _Don't run towards it!"_

Buffy's kick to the horrific thing caused it to stagger back a few inches, but it didn't fall down. Then Buffy launched a flurry of violent jabs at its face, left jab, right jab, left jab. 

The thing's head snapped back when Buffy hit him, but he didn't fall down or even cry out in pain. He was far more resilient than most of the things I've seen Buffy fight against, and Buffy's blows barely even got a reaction out of him. 

**"VERY INTERESTING,"** the patchwork demon-cyborg thing said, and grabbed Buffy's wrist before she could punch him in the face a fourth time. I had thought that he was slow and awkward at first, but apparently he could move quite fast when he wanted to. I barely even saw him move, but suddenly he had Buffy's wrist trapped in an iron grip. 

**"YOU ARE HUMAN IN APPEARANCE, HOWEVER YOUR PHYSICAL STRENGTH IS FAR SUPERIOR TO THE OTHER HUMANS."**

Buffy tried to break free from the thing's grasp, but failed. Then she tried head-butting it, but the creature barely even flinched when Buffy's hard skull smashed into his. 

**"FURTHER STUDY IS WARRANTED,"** the patchwork thing announced in a flat, eerie, emotionless voice, **"I BELIEVE A DISSECTION IS IN ORDER."**

_"No!!"_ Doctor Smith and I both screamed in unison, and then Doctor Jones ran up and grabbed a handgun that has been lying on the floor, near one of the corpses. 

The patchwork thing began to carve an incision down the middle of Buffy's torso with one of its sharp, black fingernails. Buffy struggled as the thing began to cut her open, but she still couldn't break free. There was a lot of blood as the thing sliced Buffy open down the front of her body. 

Doctor Jones fired off six shots in rapid succession. She wasn't a very good shot, and the first four shots missed the patchwork creature completely, however the fifth and sixth shots hit him in the neck and on his face, just barely missing his left eye. 

Neither one of the gunshots seemed to break the skin, however the gunshots were apparently painful enough to stun the patchwork demon and make him flinch. Then he lost his grip on Buffy's wrist. 

_"Now! Run!"_ Doctor Jones screamed frantically, and this time we all fled the scene as fast as we could possibly run. I didn't look back, for fear of what I might see, if I did. 

Doctor Smith ran down two more halls and led us to a blue box, about the size and shape of a phone booth, and he darted inside. If I had taken a second to think about it, I would have ignored the blue box and just kept running. I'd seen how strong that patchwork demon-cyborg thing was. Breaking down the door of this blue box would likely be child's play for a creature like that. 

This thing is, I was really too scared to form any coherent thoughts, so I basically just followed everybody else. Doctor Smith, Doctor Jones and Doctor Rostenkowski all ran inside the blue box first. Buffy and I followed purely due to fanatical fear and herd mentality. 

The first thing I noticed once I was inside the blue box, was that I no longer heard the sounds of pursuit behind me. I stopped running and turned around. Doctor Smith had closed the door behind us, and the cyborg-demon thingy wasn't smashing the door down. 

The second thing I noticed was that the blue box was bigger on the inside than on the outside. 

"It's bigger on the inside," Buffy said, almost as if she were reading my thoughts. 

"That's not possible," Doctor Rostenkowski snapped. 

"Oh, it's not?" Doctor Smith asked, "Are you sure about that?" 

"The Pauli Exclusion Principle proved that an object can never be larger on the inside than it is on the outside, therefore _this place,"_ said Doctor Rostenkowski, waving his arms wildly, "Cannot possibly be larger on the inside than it is on the outside." 

"Yeah, you see the thing about that," Doctor Smith said, "The thing about that, is that the Pauli Exclusion Principle sort of got disproven by Torvald's Laws of Dimensional Interface Stabilization."   
_  
"What?" Who?"_ Demanded Rostenkowski, sounding both confused and frustrated. 

The third thing I noticed was that Buffy was still bleeding, quite a lot actually. 

"Hey, guys," I said, trying to get the attention of the three doctors in the room, "I love a science-nerd fight as much as the next guy, but that thing cut up Buffy pretty bad. We need to do something to stop the bleeding." 

Buffy looked down at her chest and gingerly touched it with one hand. It came back absolutely soaked in blood, and from the look on her face, it looked like she might be going into shock. 

"Do we have a first aid kit on board?" Doctor Jones asked, and Doctor Smith replied, "Yeah, you see the thing about that..." 

I quickly got the impression there was no first aid kit on board, and there was no way we could get Buffy to the hospital without going back out there and running into the cyborg-demon thingy. I immediately decided to do my healing waters spell. It was the smartest thing to do, under the circumstances. 

"What about water?" I asked, "Is there a large supply of water on board?" 

"Swimming pool," Doctor Smith replied, "Just one floor down, but how is that supposed to...?" 

I cut him off, frantically worried about Buffy. She had lost a lot of blood and she still hadn't stopped bleeding. I didn't know how long it took for a person to bleed out from a wound like Buffy's and I really, really didn't want to find out. 

_"Show me where it is!"_ I demanded. 

The interior of the blue box just seemed to get bigger and bigger. There really was a downstairs level, and there really was a swimming pool down there. 

_"Help me get her in the water!"_ I demanded when Buffy's feet gave out underneath her. 

Doctor Jones helped me get Buffy about chest-deep in the water of the swimming pool. Buffy, Doctor Jones and I were all in the shallow end of the pool, and I called upon the goddess Aceso. 

I thought I could feel her presence hovering over me, watching me and then with Buffy, Doctor Jones and I immersed in the water, I reverently whispered the words, _"Salutaris Lacus,"_ and almost instantly felt a powerful tingling sensation in my fingers and the palms of my hands. The water glowed for a few seconds with an inner-light and then I felt a smile spread wide across my face as Buffy's chest wound stopped bleeding and her skin color went from an almost-deathly pale to something that looked kinda pinkish and much more healthy-looking. 

"Oh, God," Buffy exclaimed, her eyes looking much more alert now. "That thing. What was that thing? It cut me open like a ...flesh cutting thing." 

"He's a Bio-mechanical demonoid," Doctor Jones replied, "He was created by Initiative scientist Maggie Walsh, and he..." 

Suddenly Doctor Jones stopped talking and she stared really intently at Buffy. Then she leaned in closer; intimately close; and then in a warm, affectionate tone of voice she said, "Hey, I just noticed, you're really cute." 

She placed one hand softly on the side of Buffy's face and one second later the two of them were kissing. 

_"Hey,"_ I exclaimed indignant that Doctor Jones was making out with my girlfriend, _"Get your hands off her! She's already spoken for!"_

I grabbed Doctor Jones and pulled her away from Buffy. She turned to face me, angry at first, which was fine with me. I was angry too. How _dare_ she make out with my girlfriend? _And right in front of me, too!!_

Then, without warning, my anger melted away like ice cubes on the surface of a hot stove. Doctor Jones's face softened as if her anger had faded as well. 

The next thing I knew, we were kissing like libidinous teenagers and she had her tongue in my mouth. I grabbed at Doctor Jones and held her close. Her body felt really good in my arms, and when we broke from our kiss I got a really good look at her face. I hadn't noticed when we'd first met, but she was a really cute girl with high cheekbones, smooth skin and an adorable smile. 

"Martha, what are you doing?" Doctor Smith asked Doctor Jones, his voice was filled with confusion, mixed with concern. 

"I can't keep my hands off her," Doctor Jones replied excitedly, her hands underneath the water, undoing my belt buckle and unzipping my pants, "She's brilliant! She's adorable!" 

_"She's mine,"_ Buffy snapped and then she grabbed me and pulled me away from Doctor Jones. _"Willow is my girlfriend! Get your own!"_

Suddenly, I realized what was happening. "This is a side-effect of the healing spell," I explained. "The healing waters cause a dramatic increase in sex drive, but it's just a temporary side-effect. The healing part is permanent. The sex thing will wear off around about-" 

Suddenly Buffy's lips were pressed firmly against mine and she gagged me with her tongue. I moaned into her mouth, and suddenly whatever I was talking about didn't seem all that important anymore. 

I vaguely heard Doctor Rostenkowski saying, _"I'm jumping in the pool",_ and then Buffy and I broke from our kiss and looked up. 

Doctor Rostenkowski was starting to unbutton his shirt, but Doctor Smith grabbed him by the arm and said, "No. No, you're not. Go back upstairs."   
_  
"What?"_ screamed Doctor Rostenkowski, _"Oh, c'mon! You at least gotta let me watch!"_

"No I don't," said Doctor Smith firmly as he dragged Doctor Rostenkowski away, "Back upstairs to the control room, Rostenkowski. Give Doctor Jones and her new friends some privacy." 

As Doctor Smith and Doctor Rostenkowski retreated further and further away, I could hear Rostenkowski continuing to object, but his protests got fainter and more difficult to understand as he got further and further away, although I think I heard Doctor Smith emphatically shouting "Go!" And "Shoo!" to the unhappy Doctor Rostenkowski... 

"Maybe we could share, yeah?" Doctor Jones suggested when the sound of Doctor Rostenkowski's voice had faded completely. 

Buffy looked at Doctor Jones, then she looked at me and then back to Doctor Jones again. 

"Okay, but this is a one-time deal. Willow and I are a couple. We're not looking to become a triple." 

"Of course, yeah," Doctor Jones said as she struggled out of her clothes. She threw each item of clothing onto the concrete pool-pad just a few feet away, and each one landed with a wet splat. 

Buffy followed suit and soon both women were gloriously naked. 

Buffy and Doctor Jones took a moment to share a mischievous smile, and then suddenly they both had their hands on me, grabbing at my t-shirt, my blue jeans, the waistband of my panties, enthusiastically ripping my clothes off and leaving me just as naked as they were. 

Doctor Jones found my nipples and rolled them between her thumbs and forefingers. She was gentle, however she applied enough force that my nipples reacted to the stimulation of her carefully applied fingertips. My nipples thrived underneath the attention of her mischievous fingers, throbbing, swelling and becoming so erect and sensitive that they actually ached. 

I moaned as Doctor Jones became more aggressive and rougher with my nipples, pinching and tugging at them now. When my moaning became too loud, she clamped her mouth over mine and began to kiss me deeply, passionately, forcing her tongue into my mouth, muffling the sound of my moans, by intimately merging her mouth with my own. 

Buffy refused to be excluded from the fun; and while she stood behind me; she reached one hand between my thighs and cupped my palpitating pussy. 

I moaned louder into Doctor Jones's mouth as Buffy rubbed questing fingers across my swollen pubic lips and eventually found their way inside of me. __

_"Uuahhhuhhh,"_ I moaned into the British girl's mouth as she probed my mouth with her tongue and Buffy probed my sex with her fingers. 

Buffy's fingers were incredible, stimulating me in ways that made we squirm and whimper. I writhed uncontrollably while impaled and stuffed full with Buffy's strong, insistent fingers. I came and came and came and it didn't seem as if Buffy would ever stop. I realized that I was going to have to beg her to stop. 

I pushed Doctor Jones away enough that I could break from our kiss and called out, _"Buffy! Stop! Please stop! Buffy, sweetie! Please stop! Enough!"_

I groaned, my pussy was incredibly tender, but I was basking in the delicious post-orgasm afterglow. My body went limp, flopping over like a rag doll, my body was utterly drained after such a powerful, bone-crushing orgasm. 

Luckily Buffy grabbed me about my breasts and ribcage, holding me closely and keeping me from sinking to the bottom of the pool. 

"You really had the poor girl thrashing around like a mad woman," Doctor Jones said, smiling, her voice filled with both admiration and a certain degree of joyous anticipation. 

"I just know how to touch a woman," Buffy said, still holding me close and then kissing me affectionately on the neck. 

"Apparently you do," Doctor Jones conceded, "Your girlfriend is really lucky." 

"I'm lucky too," Buffy replied, "Willow is a really great girlfriend. She makes me wish I hadn't wasted all those years on guys. In so many ways, girls are just better." 

"I've never tried it with a girl before," Doctor Jones admitted. 

"Never?" 

"Cross my heart," Doctor Jones said, making the obligatory crossing sign over her naked breasts, "There was this girl I was very fond of my first year of medical school. I thought of telling her how I felt but..." 

Then she just shook her head and her smile faded slightly, "Medical school was pretty hectic and stressful that first year. I wasn't sure if I could handle classes and exams and juggle a relationship at the same time. And my family is kind of old fashioned, especially my mum. I'm not sure how she would react if she found out her second oldest daughter was shagging a girl." 

"She might have a stroke?" Buffy asked. 

"Maybe," Doctor Jones, conceded, "Of course my mum might be angry enough to choke the life out of me even while the stroke is causing all kinds of havoc with her higher brain functions. If my mum is angry enough, nothing can stop her." 

When I had recovered enough from that incredible, mind-erasing orgasm, Buffy and set me down on the stairs at the shallowest end of the pool. When she was sure I wouldn't drown, she turned her attentions to Doctor Jones. 

Buffy and Doctor Jones were a study in contrasts. Buffy had pale skin and blonde hair, whereas Doctor Jones had chocolate brown skin and hair as black as the night itself, however they had a lot in common too. Both were slender, toned and athletic looking. And when Doctor Jones smiled, her face looked just as adorable as Buffy's. 

And Doctor Jones smiled and gasped a lot as she stood intimately close to Buffy and Buffy drove her strong fingers into Doctor Jones's vagina. Doctor Jones laughed and gasped and sighed as Buffy impaled the British woman's sex on her strong, capable fingers. She gripped Buffy's right arm tightly as if she wanted to tear Buffy's powerful fingers from her sex, of course Buffy was far stronger than she looked, and there was no way Doctor Jones would be able to remove Buffy's hand if Buffy didn't want it removed. 

Buffy thrust into the girl again and again, sometimes lifting her up, lifting her feet from the bottom of the pool and raising her hips just above the surface of the water. 

"You're so strong," Doctor Jones exclaimed and then there was a loud series of gasps, followed by the darker girl writhing uncontrollably on Buffy's fingers. Suddenly every muscle and sinew of her slender frame was taut with the explosion of an orgasmic supernova. 

_"Bloody hell,"_ the British girl cried out breathlessly, _"That was bloody unbelievable!"_

Doctor Jones's breasts heaved up and down as she recovered from a mind-bending orgasm. She couldn't wipe the smile from her face, as Buffy walked her over to steps where I was sitting. 

When she was standing over me, I got my first really good look at her thighs. Her thighs were exquisite and athletic looking. I reached out and touched one. The skin was soft, but there was hard muscle underneath, just like Buffy's thighs. 

"You two look so happy and satisfied," Buffy said as she stood naked and dripping wet, behind Doctor Jones, "Do you realize neither one of you has thought about Buffy's needs? My poor body is absolutely pulsing with indecent, sexual desires!" 

"Buffy, I can barely move," I complained, "You take a lot out of a girl." 

"Next time, you take care of my needs first," Buffy said admonishingly. 

"Hang about," Doctor Jones said, "We'll see to you, soon." 

Doctor Jones then rose up out of the pool and walked over to a corner where they apparently kept a large supply of terrycloth towels. I watched Doctor Jones as she walked, enjoying the sway of her hips and the perfect shape of her firm, athletic ass. Her ass was the perfect shape, like it was sculpted from marble by a master-craftsman. 

She came back and laid the towels down on the ground and suggested Buffy lay down on them and spread her legs wide. 

"Just lay down, spread your legs far apart and Willow and I will do the rest." 

"You're the doctor," Buffy said, obediently following Doctor Jones's instructions. 

Martha (That's right, Doctor Jones insisted that Buffy and I call her Martha) helped me over to where Buffy was laying and asked me to show her how to lick Buffy to orgasm, and then she watched very attentively while I lapped at Buffy's swollen labia, sometimes asking questions and making sure she understood my technique properly. 

"I think I've got the idea," Martha finally said and she took over, in between Buffy's legs. 

I watched from a few inches away as Martha licked my girlfriend's swollen labia from bottom to top. I'm thinking that she learned her lessons pretty well, as she soon had Buffy gasping and her hips writhing and raising themselves up off her towel, thrusting her pelvis in Martha's face. 

"I've never done this for a girl before," Martha said as she paused in licking Buffy's pink, pubic lips, "Am I really that good, or is she just really responsive?" 

"A little of both," I said, "The healing waters make everyone that's touched by them more sexually responsive, but I think you were doing a really good job in there. You avoided quite a few rookie mistakes, like..." 

 

"Talk later," Buffy snapped at us impatiently, "One of you needs to put your tongue to good use in between my legs, now!" 

Martha obediently went back to work, kissing Buffy's inner thighs before lapping again at her pussy. When Buffy's breathing had become heavy and rapid enough, I instructed Martha to take Buffy's clit gently between her teeth and suck on it. 

Martha started off really gentle, barely applying any suction at all, until Buffy whimpered, groaned, grabbed Martha's head tightly with both hands and then snapped, _"Harder!"_

Then Martha sucked vigorously at my girlfriend's hard, swollen clit and Buffy screamed, her hips writhed and bucked and she came again and again, while Martha's mouth was firmly latched onto her sex. 

"Oh God, that was good," Buffy exclaimed while panting briskly. 

"I'm good at this, yeah?" Martha asked. 

"Oh yeah," Buffy confirmed. 

All three of us seemed physically and emotionally exhausted. I know I was, I just wanted to sleep for a week, but then Buffy said, "So, what are we gonna do about that cyborg thingy?" 

"Um, will doing something about the cyborg thingy, involve getting up and moving around?" I asked. 

"Yes, Will," Buffy answered emphatically, "Doing something about the cyborg thingy will definitely involve getting up and moving around." 

"In that case, I'm coming down firmly against it," I said, sounding somewhat petulant. 

"C'mon, Will," Buffy said, slapping my naked butt for emphasis, "I'm the Slayer. This is my job. I can't just spend all day lying around when innocent lives are in danger." 

I groaned and slowly, reluctantly raised myself up into a standing position. I was naked and tired, and my girlfriend wanted to lead me into battle. 

I guess that's life on the Hellmouth.


	6. Adam dies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor comes up with a totally mad plan to defeat Adam, and somehow he emerges victorious and walks away unscathed.

Martha got us more towels and dry clothes for Buffy and I to wear. She also got some dry clothes for herself. Like Xander says, if you’re gonna save the world, you should put on some pants first.

“So, right before the lesbian group sex started,” Buffy prompted Martha, “You were trying to tell us about the cyborg-demon-thingy.”

Martha stepped into a pair of black hip-hugger panties and said, “Yeah. His name is Adam. He’s a bio-mechanical demonoid, and in the year 2007 he’s got and entire army of demon cyborgs. He’s killed over 36,000 people, including at least 144 members of the California-“

Buffy cut her off in mid-sentence, “Wait, Martha, hold up. In the year 2007? It’s only the year 2000. How do you know what happens seven years from now?”

Martha looked a little bit irked at being interrupted, but she adjusted the waistband on her panties until they were just right and replied, “I’m from the future. The Doctor and I are both from the future. He’s got a time machine and he brought us back here to the year 2000, so we could stop Adam before he could get started. We’d planned on getting here before he went online, but I guess we got here a little bit too late.”

“Time travel?” Buffy asked, “Time travel is possible now?”

“Seven years from now, we’ll have mastered time travel?” I asked, the science nerd in me, suddenly excited.

“Well, not the human race, no,” Martha answered, “The Doctor’s people have mastered time travel. I don’t think the human race ever gets the knack of it.”

“Wait, Doctor Smith isn’t human?”

By this point Martha had donned a bra and a stylish V-neck t-shirt. I finally took the hint and started sorting through the dry clothes Martha had carried out and searched for something to put on.

“His real name isn’t Doctor Smith. He’s just called the Doctor. And no, he’s not human. He’s from the planet Gallifrey. His people are called the Gallifreyans, sometimes they’re called Time Lords and they perfected time travel some time ago.”

Buffy and I both ended up with black underwear, pretty much identical to Martha’s. I was surprised that the clothes she picked out fit so well. She had never asked us our sizes, she just walked into a huge-walk-in closet and grabbed a bunch of clothes. It seemed unlikely that she could grab clothes exactly our size, so quickly, so easily just by pure luck.

“So, you’re from the future,” Buffy said, “The Doctor is an alien, and the two of you just sort of travel backwards and forwards through time, saving lives and battling the forces of evil?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” Martha said, forcing her tiny butt into a pair of tight, leather pants and zipping them up, “I’ve never heard anybody phrase it quite like that before, but yeah.”

“Giles is gonna love this,” I blurted out, “Xander too, I’ll bet.”

I mean, time travel and aliens! Living on the Hellmouth, we’d become accustomed to vampires, demons, demonic possession, witches, warlocks, zombies and werewolves, but we’d never suspected that aliens or time travel might be real things!

“Don’t tell too many people,” Martha cautioned, “The Doctor tends to work best when he doesn’t attract a lot of attention to himself. That’s why he tries to pass himself off as human. Tell people you’re an alien from a planet in the constellation of Kasterborous, and it tends to cut down on cooperation.”

“Fine,” Buffy said firmly, suddenly all business, “But how do we stop this Adam guy? I mean, I hit him hard enough to crack open a man’s sternum, and he barely even flinched. What does it take to put him down?”

“Does the Doctor have some sort of high-tech ray gun we could use to stop Adam?” I asked, “Like the phasers they use on Star Trek?”

Martha frowned and shook her head in negation. “He doesn’t believe in guns. He won’t allow guns on his ship. No guns.”

“So, you and the Doctor travel backwards and forwards through time, saving lives and battling the forces of evil, but you don’t have any guns. How does the Doctor battle the forces of evil?”

Martha got an adorable smile on her face and got this far-away look in her eyes and said, “Usually, he comes up with some totally mad plan that no sane person would ever have any faith in, but when he puts it into action, somehow he emerges victorious, saves lives and walks away unscathed.”

For a long time there was silence in the room. From the look on her face, it seemed to me that Martha was in love with the Doctor; possibly it was just hero worship; but I thought it looked like love. It made me feel uncomfortable about the fact that she and I had just had sex together. Had Buffy and I damaged Martha’s relationship with the Doctor?

Finally, Buffy broke the silence by saying, “Okay then, let’s go talk to the Doctor and see if he has a totally mad plan. I’m down with that.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Up in the control room, Doctor Rostenkowski and the Doctor were arguing again. Doctor Rostenkowski was claiming that time travel was impossible. The time-traveling alien from Gallifrey was insisting that it was not only possible, but that the two of them were currently standing in a fully-functional time machine.

“Okay, if this is a fully-functional time machine,” Doctor Rostenkowski countered, “Why don’t we just go back two days into the past and remove Adam’s uranium power core, two days before he goes online?”

“Yeah, the thing about that,” the Doctor said, “The thing about that is, we can’t.”

Doctor Rostenkowski got a smug grin on his face, folded his arms across his chest and said, “Oh, really? Why can’t we?”

The Doctor seemed somewhat delated, but answered, “Because your entire town is surrounded by a dimensional instability field. And that field causes huge problems with the TARDIS’s navigation system. It took me fourteen attempts just to get this close. On my second-closest attempt, I ended up landing in 1969.”

“Dimensional instability field?” Doctor Rostenkowski said, contemptuously, “You just made that up!”

“No, he didn’t,” Martha asserted hotly.

Then, suddenly an idea occurred to me. 

“No, he didn’t,” I said, backing up Martha and the Doctor.

“Of course I didn’t,” the Doctor said, having no idea why I was agreeing with him.

“Willow,” Doctor Rostenkowski protested, all ready for a science nerd fight, but I cut him off.

“It’s the Hellmouth,” I said.

“What?”

“The dimensional instability field! It’s the Hellmouth!”

“What’s a Hellmouth?” the Doctor asked. He might know all about time travel and alien technology, but he didn’t understand the mystical significance of the town he just arrived in.

Gesturing wildly with my hands, I said, “It’s like this huge doorway that connects our reality to a hell dimension! The town of Sunnydale was built right on top of it! That’s why this town is such a magnet for vampires, demons and other nasty, lurk-y things! And I bet it can screw with time travel technology too!”

“Oh, come on, Willow,” Doctor Rostenkowski protested, “Why are you helping him? You cannot possibly believe that-“

But, the Doctor cut him off in mid-sentence and said, “A semi-permeable dimensional portal.”

“What?”

The Doctor looked at me with his eyes really intense, and said, “This Hellmouth of yours, it sounds like some sort of semi-permeable dimensional portal. And just about any type of dimensional portal would create a dimensional instability field, but I’ve never heard anyone building a town right on top of one before! The amount of power required to keep it open, would be phenomenal! Where’s all that power coming from?”

“Don’t look at me,” I protested, a little intimidated by his intense glare, “The Hellmouth has been here for at least a hundred years. It was here before I was born.”

“But, to build a town right on top of top of a permeable dimensional portal, you’d have to be quite mad! I mean; on top of everything else; if the portal every collapsed in on itself, the entire town would get sucked in!”

Buffy listened to all this and replied, “Richard Wilkins”.

“Eh?”

“You said that whoever built a town right on top of a dimensional portal would have to be crazy. Well, his name was Richard Wilkins, and he about as crazy as you can get.”

 

“Spent the last years of his life locked in an insane asylum?”

I shook my head in negation and replied, “Actually, he spent the last years of his life running the town government. He was the town mayor.”

“For many, many years,” Buffy added.

“Sounds like the whole town was mad,” the Doctor muttered, so softly that I could just barely hear him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Eventually we got past all the arguments about the impossibility of time travel, the insanity of Mayor Wilkins and the insanity (or possibly the stupidity) of the registered voters of Sunnydale for constantly re-electing Mayor Wilkins and we focused on how we were going to defeat Adam.

“There’s an appollonix bird, loose somewhere on the TARDIS,” the Doctor explained, “The appollonix bird is extremely rare, native to the planet San Helios. They’re now very nearly extinct. When I found this one, I brought him onto the TARDIS with the plan of taking him to an aviary operated by the Tritovore. The Tritovore already have other appollonix birds in their aviary, and there she’d be able to breed and help advance the population of the species.”

“Doctor,” Martha warned, “You’re getting off topic. How is the bird going to help us stop Adam?”

“Right,” the Doctor exclaimed, snapping out of his lecture on appollonix birds, “The appollonix bird is somewhat unusual in that they devour solar radiation, gamma radiation, X-radiation, pretty much any type of radiation. If we could get the appollonix bird into the same room as Adam, it could drain all of the energy from Adam’s uranium power core.”

“Are you serious?” Doctor Rostenkowski asked, “I mean, if you are, that could neutralize Adam completely. The energy he gets from that uranium 235, is pretty much his key to cell replacement, regenerating from injuries, powering his nanobots and shrugging off fatigue. Take that away, and it would be like cutting a puppet’s strings.”

“Oh, I’m serious,” the Doctor replied, “The only thing is finding the appollonix bird. She escaped from her cage several days ago, and I haven’t been able to find her.”

“We’ll find her,” Martha assured the Doctor, “We’ll split up into teams and search the TARDIS, until she’s found, yeah?”

* * * * * * * * * *

We split up into three teams. Martha and the Doctor made up the first team. Buffy and I made up the second team, and Doctor Rostenkowski made up a team all by himself.

According to the Doctor, the appollonix bird looked a lot like a red-tailed hawk, although it had crimson eyes and had orange, chestnut red, fiery red, copper red and auburn feathers. It was also bioluminescent, which might make it easier to find.

I mean, if it glows in the dark, finding the appollonix bird could be a lot like finding a neon sign.

“We’re gonna get lost,” Buffy said after we had been searching for about an hour without finding the bird, “This place is huge.”

“It does seem larger than I thought it would be,” I admitted.

“What about down there?” Buffy asked, pointing down the hall. There was an open door and it sounded like somebody or something was moving around inside.

“I suppose it could be in there,” I conceded.

Buffy went in first and I followed. I didn’t see a bioluminescent bird, however I was sure something was in the room. The sounds I kept hearing were definitely signs of life. It looked like we were in some sort of huge library, but I didn’t think an appollonix bird would have much use for a library.

Well, maybe it might want to build a nest on one of the higher bookshelves. That might make sense.

I noticed the bookshelves were made of wood. The books had leather binding and paper pages. The floors were hardwood. Somehow I was expecting that the library of a time-traveling alien from the future would be more high-tech somehow. Like maybe, instead of books printed on paper, books could be read on a PADD, like they had in Star Trek the Next Generation.

When we found the source of the noises we heard in the library, it wasn’t the appollonix bird at all. It was just Doctor Rostenkowski.

“Rostenkowski,” Buffy snapped, “What are you doing in here?”

Doctor Rostenkowski was seated at a table with a reading lamp and five books. He looked up, excitedly when he heard Buffy call out his name.

“Summers,” he exclaimed, “Rosenberg! This is amazing! Do you know what I found here?”

“Apparently, not the appollonix bird,” Buffy said, sharply.

Ignoring the criticism, Doctor Rostenkowski responded, “I found the holy grail of science! I’ve got a book here that tells you how to make computers that are less than one tenth of the size of the computers we have now! Also how to make them with a thousand times more memory! And at least a hundred times faster! Also an improved cooling system, so they’ll never overheat, no matter how hard you work them! This is incredible!”

“Um, I thought we were supposed to be trying to save Sunnydale from the killer, demon-cyborg,” Buffy said.

“Yeah, this isn’t helping,” I said, backing Buffy up.

“Well, yeah,” Rostenkowski conceded reluctantly, “But what about after we stop Adam? It would be extraordinarily cool to have these books and advance computer science by decades! I could win a Nobel Prize for this!”

“Wait,” I said, “A Nobel Prize for somebody else’s work? You didn’t figure out how to build computers that are faster and smaller! You’re just planning on copying research that somebody else did!”

Doctor Rostenkowski looked deflated and said, “Well, when you say it like that, you make it sound like I’m cheating.”

“It is cheating,” I replied.

“And we have more immediate concerns,” Buffy added, “Every minute we spend not stopping Adam, is a minute where Adam has the opportunity to kill more people.”

“I thought I heard voices in here,” the Doctor said as he entered the room with a burst of enthusiasm, “Any luck finding the bird?”

Martha was just a few steps behind him. Her face was awash with urgency, determination and disappointment.

“No luck,” Rostenkowski said, pushing away from the reading table and preparing to rise up from his chair, “I’ve searched this entire room and there’s no sign of the bird here.”

And then; as if the goddess has a sense of humor; I heard the sound of wings flapping and then the brightly colored appollonix bird landed on Doctor Rostenkowski’s shoulder.

“Auwk,” the appollonix bird squawked, and I could almost imagine it was calling Doctor Rostenkowski a liar.

“Searched the entire room?” Martha asked, mockingly.

“She was probably up on top of one of the bookcases,” Doctor Rostenkowski protested, “She was probably too high up for me to see!”

“So, you didn’t think that the ladders in here would be useful to assist you in your search?” Martha asked playfully, looking directly at one of the many ladders in the library. They were the kind of ladders with wheels on the bottom for easy transport.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Doctor Rostenkowski snapped, “My major at U.C. Santa Cruz was in microbiology, not hide and go seek!”

“Are we good to go now?” Buffy asked, “Does the bird need any prep, or are we ready to go after Adam now that we’ve got the bird?”

“Oh, we’re good,” the Doctor said enthusiastically, “We’ve got Adam outgunned! There’s no way he’s going to be ready for us!

* * * * * * * * *

“What the hell happened?” Doctor Rostenkowski exclaimed, as he saw all the damage that had been wreaked on his top-secret military base.

There were scorch marks everywhere. The floors had actual craters about three or four inches deep in some places and several of the walls had buckled and ruptured, almost as if a fast moving SUV had crashed into them.

We wandered down the halls of the Initiatives secret base. Everywhere we went the situation was the same, everything was destroyed. The infirmary was all blackened and scorched and shards of broken glass covered the floor. The storage rooms, showers, mess hall, sleeping quarters, offices and even cells were all destroyed. Eventually we found a group of soldiers with fire extinguishers, putting out small fires just outside of the armory.

“Agent Hamilton,” Doctor Rostenkowski called out to one of the soldiers, “What happened here? Report!”

“Doctor Rostenkowski,” the soldier said, standing up straight and snapping his head around to make eye contact with his base commander, “An H.S.T. somehow infiltrated our base and killed over twenty of our personnel! Small arms fire had no effect on the H.S.T. and we were unable to locate you! Agent Finn assumed control of the base in your absence and he authorized the use of Condition Red Emergency weapons! C.R.E. weapons were issued and used against the H.S.T.! The H.S.T. was neutralized, Doctor, however the base suffered some damage as a result of using C.R.E. weapons in an enclosed, manmade habitat!”

“Condition Red Emergency weapons?” Doctor Rostenkowski demanded, “In a heavily populated, civilian town?”

“Technically sir, we’re underneath the town, there were no civilians in the line of fire,” Agent Hamilton shot back.

“I could have neutralized the H.S.T. without destroying the base,” Doctor Rostenkowski protested, “I had a plan! We didn’t need Condition Red Emergency weapons!”

“What are Condition Red Emergency Weapons?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Rocket launchers, C-4 explosives, anti-aircraft weapons, that sort of thing,” Doctor Rostenkowski explained, “Ordinarily we don’t use them on U.S. soil unless we’re many miles away from civilians and populated areas.”

“Begging your pardon, Sir,” Agent Hamilton cut in, “But that H.S.T. was killing our people left and right, you were out of communication, you were missing and assumed dead. We had to do something in your absence.”

Totally deflated, Doctor Rostenkowski replied, “As you were, soldier,” and proceeded to inspect the rest of the damage to his secret military base.

* * * * * * * * * *

“They are going to crucify me,” Doctor Rostenkowski complained bitterly.

“Oh, come on,” the Doctor said jovially, “It wasn’t your idea to blow up the base! You weren’t even here when it happened! You were on the TARDIS! You had nothing to do with all of this!”

“It doesn’t actually work that way,” Doctor Rostenkowski explained, “This is a military base and I’m the base commander. It doesn’t matter where I was when the base was destroyed. I was still in charge. I was in charge when disaster struck, therefore I’m responsible. That’s the military way. When the bigwigs in Washington DC start assigning blame for this little fiasco, my name is gonna be at the top of the list.”

“Can’t you shift some of the blame to Professor Walsh?” Martha suggested, “I mean, Adam was her brainchild. She pretty much designed and created him.”

“Oh, I’ll shift as much blame as I can to her,” Doctor Rostenkowski assured her, “But this is still gonna sting. They’re still going to load enough blame onto my narrow shoulders to destroy my chances of ever working on a military project ever again.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When we eventually found Adam amongst all the rubble, I was shocked to see that he was still alive. One of his legs had been blown off, both of his arms were broken, he was bleeding from at least four gaping wounds and there were serious burns on his face, neck and arms.

But he was still alive.

“The nanobots are already starting to repair the damage,” the Doctor said.

“He’s very difficult to kill,” Doctor Rostenkowski replied, “Professor Walsh designed him to be the ultimate soldier.”

“Ultimate predator,” Martha replied, “An ultimate soldier would have obeyed orders.”

“There was a loyalty chip implanted in his brainstem,” Doctor Rostenkowski explained, “It should have kept him from killing members of the Initiative. Hell, it should have kept him from killing anyone other than the targets we gave him. I’m not sure what went wrong.”

“Maybe there was a problem with the chip design, maybe it wasn’t installed properly or maybe Adam was just highly resistant to being controlled,” the Doctor replied.

Then he took out a tiny device about the size and shape of a penlight and hunkered down over Adam’s bloody and battered form.

A blue light emitted from his device, there was a strange buzzing sound and the Doctor made an incision in Adam’s abdomen. Adam opened his eyes briefly. He opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, but then the Doctor pulled out the uranium power core that everyone had been talking about. It was covered in blood, or at least some sort of bloodlike fluid.

Then Adam closed his eyes for the last time.

The appollonix bird immediately leapt from Doctor Rostenkowski’s shoulder and perched on the uranium power core in the Doctor’s hand.

“I think she likes it,” the Doctor said. 

“Well, my work here is done,” the Doctor announced, “But you three remember what I said.”

“About the appollonix bird being extremely rare?” Buffy asked.

“About the town being built on a permeable dimensional portal,” the Doctor answered, “It’s not safe for you to live here. If you value your lives, you’ll all leave this town and never look back.”

“Yeah, the thing about that,” Buffy answered, “Is that I’m the Slayer. I can’t leave town. I have to stay here and defend the people who can’t defend themselves.”

* * * * * * * * * *

We met up with Xander and Giles at Giles’s apartment for another Scooby meeting. Giles was kind enough to buy us all egg rolls and dumplings from the Wok of Ages. The Scooby meeting was originally supposed to be about Faith’s unexpected recovery from an irreversible coma, but Buffy and I threw the whole meeting off-topic when we told them all about Adam, about the Initiative base getting blown up and about the Doctor.

 

“This Doctor,” Giles asked, “Did he look anything like this?”

Giles carried a thick, leather-bound book over to where Buffy and I were sitting and opened it up to pages 178 and 179. On page 179 was an illustration of a tall, slender man in a suit and tie. His face looked exactly like the Doctor’s. His clothing was the same. He was even wearing the same sort of high-top sneakers.

“That’s him,” I said excitedly. And then I added, “Why do you have an illustration of the Doctor in one of your ancient books?”

“The Watcher’s Council has had a long-running interest in the Doctor,” Giles replied. “We’ve never really been certain who, or what, he was, however the Council has been documenting Doctor Sightings for centuries.”

“Centuries?” Xander asked, “How old is this guy?”

“That’s a question that many members of the Council would like answered,” Giles replied. 

There was a pause and then Giles continued, “In 1757 he was sighted in France at the Palace of Versailles. He rescued a group of French nobles from an assault by a large number of violent intruders that Marie-Louise O' Murphy described as “clockwork assassins”. The illustration I showed you was one of several commissioned by Madame de Pompadour after the Doctor bested them. ”

 

Giles leafed through his book, stopped on a different page and then added, “In 1879 he was at Balmoral Castle. He apparently saved Queen Victoria from either an assassination attempt or a kidnapping attempt. Our sources were somewhat unclear on that point. Although all of our sources seem to agree that there was a werewolf involved.”

He leafed through more pages and then announced, “In 1953 he assisted a Detective Inspector Bishop on a very odd case where people in a London suburb were mysteriously turning up without faces.”

“Century after century, he turns up. He always looks the same and he never ages. Centuries ago the Council had a theory that the Doctor was a vampire, however there have been multiple times that he’s appeared in direct sunlight without bursting into flames, so that theory has lost popularity.”

“He’s an alien,” Buffy explained.

“From the planet Gallifrey,” I added.

“What?” Giles exclaimed. Of all the possibilities Giles might have come up with for who and what the Doctor might be, I’m pretty sure he never hypothesized that the Doctor might be an alien from another planet.

“How do you know this?” Giles said, sounding incredulous and maybe a little bit outraged.

“Martha told us.”

“And who the bloody hell is Martha?”

“Martha is a British girl from the year 2007. She’s also the Doctor’s traveling companion. She knows all of his secrets.”

Sounding betrayed and frustrated, Giles complained, “The Watchers Council has been struggling for centuries to obtain any scrap of information about the Doctor’s true nature, and you two just meet his traveling companion and she just divulges all of his secrets to you on the very same day you met her?”

Buffy was looking kind of wounded. It wasn’t really normal for Giles to yell at me or Buffy, so neither one of us was really used to it. I tried to smooth things over and explain why Buffy and I succeeded where so many other people had failed.

“Buffy and I had sex with her,” I explained to Giles, “That sort of thing tends to create instant friendship. I guess Martha felt she could tell us anything after that.”

I had hoped that this would make Giles a lot less upset, however I hadn’t really put any thought into how it would cause Xander to react.

“Wait,” Xander demanded, “You and Buffy had a lesbian three-way with some British lesbian? Way to bury the lead, Will!”

“Xander,” Giles snapped, still sounding annoyed, “Willow’s sexual exploits with other women are not what is of paramount importance here!”

“Strongly disagree,” Xander protested.

Giles and Xander proceeded to waste several minutes arguing over what should be the priority of our discussion. Buffy and I eventually got annoyed and decided to go home. Xander and Giles were still arguing when we left. They didn’t even seem to notice when we exited the apartment.

 

* * * * * * * * *

“So, are the Scoobies ever gonna get back onto the topic of Faith?” I asked Buffy as we walked back home.

“Oh, we’ll get there eventually,” Buffy assured me, “Giles just has to get his Doctor fixation out of his system, and Xander needs to stop fantasizing about lesbians. Once we get past all that, we can all totally get on top of Faith.”

I felt that Buffy’s comment about getting on top of Faith came out sounding wrong, but I didn’t want to say anything.

“Do you think Doctor Rostenkowski will be able to find her for us?” I asked.

“I dunno,” Buffy answered, “What with the Initiative base being blown up and all, he seemed to be pretty certain that the federal government isn’t gonna do him favors anymore. If we’re gonna find Faith, I think we’re gonna have to do it without him.”

“Any thoughts on how we’re gonna do that?” I asked.

“Tracking spell?” Buffy suggested hopefully.

“Sorry,” I said, taking Buffy’s hand in mine as we walked, “The only tracking spell I know requires that I have blood, saliva, hair or something like that from the person that I’m tracking. Do you have any blood or anything like that from Faith?”

“Sorry, no,” Buffy admitted.

“Also my tracking spells are only useful if the target is less than two miles away. If Faith has actually left town, the spell would just fizzle.”

“So, it doesn’t look like magic is gonna help this time,” Buffy concluded.

“Nope.”

“So, we’re not gonna be able to do anything as far as locating Faith tonight,” Buffy said, “What do you wanna do when we get home?”

* * * * * * * * *

Terri actually had a suggestion on that topic. She and Tara were going to go see the movie, Girl Interrupted, and she invited Buffy and me to go with her.

“It’s a Winona Ryder movie,” Terri explained, “You like Winona Ryder. Come with us. It’ll be a double date.”

Winona Ryder is actually one of Buffy’s favorite actors, and I like her too. It took very little encouraging for Terri to convince us to come along with her and Tara to the movies.

Buffy and I sat through the whole thing. We held hands and even kissed when the theatre was dark enough that nobody would notice, but when the final credits were done rolling across the screen and the audience began to exit their seats, Buffy voiced her disappointment with the film.

“Geez, that movie was a whole lot of nothing,” Buffy said as we all rose from our seats.

“Why? What was wrong with it?” Tara asked.

“It’s like this,” Buffy began, “In Heathers, Winona Ryder played this strong, decisive girl who took charge and kicked ass. In this Girl Interrupted movie, she played this wimpy, wishy-washy girl that just let life steamroll right over top of her. She caves to every authority figure she meets. Can you imagine what it would be like if I lived my life like that?”

“I really can’t see you caving to authority,” I replied to Buffy, “You weren’t even very good at taking orders from Giles.”

“I followed his orders,” Buffy said, and then after a pause she added, “Sometimes.”

“Remember when he told you not to face the Master? He said that he was going to fight the Master himself and he ordered you to stay behind?” I asked.

“That was an entirely atypical example,” Buffy protested.

“Why? What’d she do? Terri asked.

“Will,” Buffy said warningly, but I ignored her.

“She punched Giles in the face, knocked him out and went to go face the Master by herself.”

“My point is,” Buffy declared loudly, “Susanna is a horrible role model for teenage girls! She’s a doormat! She does what everybody tells her to do, and she never stands up for herself! Teenage girls need to see that they can stand on their own two feet and take charge of their lives!”

“I liked the lesbian kissing scene,” Tara said, timidly attempting to defend the movie.

“What was that?” Buffy asked, “Like two seconds long?”

Then, surprising me, she leaned in close, took my face gently in her hands and said, “That kissing scene could have been a lot better. If I were the director it would have been a lot more like this.”

 

Buffy kissed me deeply. It was a wonderful kiss, starting out tender at first and growing in its intensity. My body temperature seemed to rise as the kiss went on and by the time Buffy’s tongue slid forward and forced me to open my mouth to grant her tongue access, my temperature was at feverish levels.

Buffy’s warm, wet tongue entered my mouth and the merging of our tongues caused my heart to beat faster and I could feel myself getting wet down in between my legs.

I moaned into Buffy's mouth as she plunged her tongue in deeper. It seemed like she was slowly and leisurely exploring every nook and cranny my mouth had to offer, and I enjoyed every delicious second of her exploration. I wrapped one arm lovingly around Buffy’s waist as she kissed me and one of my hands seemed to find Buffy’s firm, delightful buttocks, even though I wasn’t consciously looking for them.

When Buffy finally withdrew her tongue from my mouth and her lips separated from mine I was panting and gasping for breath. 

“Oh, wow,” Tara said, after the kiss was over.

“That was better than the kiss they did in movie,” Terri admitted.

“They need me to direct the next Winona Ryder movie,” Buffy insisted.

I found it hard to disagree. I’d love to see a movie where Winona Ryder engaged in a long, lingering, passionate kiss like that with another girl. 

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy and I arrived home again, only this time Tara and Terri arrived with us. Buffy and I made it back to our room and I was still feverish with sexual heat. I locked the door, so Buffy and I would have some privacy and began stripping off my clothes.

The clothes Martha had given Buffy and I were nicer than the ones that we normally wore. I wondered if they were from the future. Were these clothes from the year 2007? As I removed my clothes, I checked the tags to see if there was anything written on them that indicated the date they were manufactured.

“What are you doing, Will?” Buffy asked and I explained about checking the tags.

“I gotta admit,” Buffy said, “I never expected to own clothes that were given to me by a time traveler. I wonder if they have any futuristic capabilities. Hey! Do you think they might be self-cleaning?”

“I don’t think so,” I replied, now standing naked and holding up my new pair of panties where Buffy could read the tag that said, “Machine wash warm. Normal cycle only. Non-chlorine bleach when needed. Tumble dry normal. Low heat.”

“Darn,” said Buffy as studied the washing instructions on my panties and totally ignored my cute, slender, naked, teenage body. Buffy was doing a horrible job of taking the hint. I was going to have to get really blatant and obvious if I wanted her to have sex with me.

I took Buffy’s face, held it between my hands, leaned forward and kissed her. It was a long, lingering kiss, that didn’t end until I’d slipped my tongue into Buffy’s mouth and Buffy was moaning softly and dreamily.

Buffy’s body was stiff when I began the kiss, but by the time my lips withdrew from hers, her body melted into mine and her arms were contentedly wrapped around my waist and shoulders.

I drew back slightly and managed a breathy, “Buffy, when you’ve got a cute, naked girl standing right in front of you, you shouldn’t ignore her.”

“Sorry, Will,” Buffy apologized as she pressed her fully clothed body to my naked breasts, thighs and loins, “I was just lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking about?” I asked playfully, wondering what could possibly be more important than a naked girl with a bottom as cute and tiny as mine.

“I totally forget,” Buffy replied and she leaned forward for another kiss.

Once Buffy gets started, she’s a great kisser. Getting her mind off the Hellmouth, slaying, college lectures, homework and other vexing issues sometimes required a great deal of effort on my part, but once I succeeded in getting her lips adhered passionately to mine, it was all worth it.

 _“Mmmmmmmmmm,”_ I moaned into Buffy’s mouth.

Then Buffy moaned as she continued to kiss me. My tongue felt tingly as her tongue entwined with mine and those tingles spread out in waves across my entire body.

When we next broke from the kiss, I smiled adoringly at Buffy, caught my breath and said, “You are wearing entirely too many clothes.”

Buffy returned my smile, grabbed the hem of her shirt and began to pull it up and off over her head.

In my haste to see and feel her naked body, I helped her get undressed. I got down on my knees, removed her shoes, unzipped her jeans, helped pull her jeans down her thighs and even grabbed the waistband of her panties and pulled them down to her ankles as well.

Soon we were both naked and sprawled on the bed. I smiled eagerly at Buffy. Buffy returned the smile with erotic enthusiasm. Then she grabbed me by my right leg, pulled me closer to her and began planting tender kisses on my thigh.

I loved the feel of Buffy’s lips on my naked skin. I moaned and stroked Buffy’s silky, blonde hair while she kissed my inner thigh.

And while Buffy’s beautiful mouth pressed against the bare skin of my thigh, her fingers found my pubic lips and soon began lovingly stroking them. 

_“Mmmmmmmmmm,”_ I moaned and felt my pubic lips growing thickly together, a small amount of my juices escaping from in between them. Buffy dragged her finger across the seam between my labia and got her finger wet with my juices and then she stuck her finger in her mouth.

“I really like the way you taste,” Buffy said smiling, “I should taste you more often.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, and then I moaned again as Buffy slid her index finger deep inside of me.

Buffy slowly and methodically probed my pussy with her fingers and licked my juices off of them several times before she decided to just put her face right up against my sex and lap up my juices directly.

Normally Buffy uses her fingers to bring me to orgasm, and she’s really good at using her fingers to probe deep inside of me and excite all the right nerve endings, however her tongue can do some pretty amazing things too. I had almost forgotten that.

Buffy refreshed my memory by licking her way up and down the slit of my pink sex. She used her hands to hold my thighs far apart and forced her tongue inside of me, pushing my swollen labia apart. I moaned and gasped in erotic approval. The things that Buffy’s tongue were doing were making me feel all tingly and glorious inside.

“God, Will,” Buffy enthused, “Your pussy is like candy, sweet, forbidden candy.”

I smiled, my hips squirmed and in a weak, raspy voice I said, “How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?”

Buffy lifted her head up from my moist, swollen pubic lips and said, “What?”

Apparently Buffy didn’t get the reference. It was from an old TV commercial that she’d probably never seen. I would have explained it to her, but I was too caught up in a tidal wave of feverish lust to stop and explain it now.

“I’ll explain it later, I promise,” I said, panting and breathless, “Just go back to what you were doing.”

Buffy happily resumed licking the swollen folds of my sex and I happily resumed moaning and writhing. I spread my legs even further apart giving her even greater access, and Buffy responded by licking me even more enthusiastically.

 _“Aaaahhhh,”_ I moaned and then Buffy began to use her talented tongue to lick away the hood from my hard, swollen clitoris.

“Oh,” I exclaimed and I thrust my hips straight up.

I moaned and gasped and made lots of vowel-sounds as Buffy’s very capable tongue did wonderful things to my sensitive clit. I stopped stroking her hair and instead gripped her skull tightly.

My girlfriend is wonderful at cunnilingus. I panted like a long-distance runner that had just started the eleventh mile of a ten mile race, and then she took my clit into her mouth, making the feelings I was experiencing even more intense.

 _"Oooh! Ooooohh! Aaaahhhh"_ I screamed inarticulately as her lips began to suck on my swollen, throbbing clit. The sensation of Buffy's beautiful lips, teeth and tongue on my clitoris were wild and deep as she sucked rhythmically.

My wonderful girlfriend continued to suck on my needy clitoris and waves of erotic pleasure built in wave after wave. 

Every time I thought the crashing waves of orgasmic fury were over, another wave formed behind it. Each wave seemed more powerful than the one that preceded it, and I was being overwhelmed. Nobody could handle something this powerful emanating from their own body. It was too intense. It was like giving birth to a hurricane.  
  
_“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh,”_ I screamed inarticulately and I thrashed my head from side to side as the orgasm overwhelmed me.

Hours later (or maybe it was minutes…it’s kind of hard to judge time when your girlfriend has overloaded your nervous system with orgasmic bliss) my legs were twitching and I was making soft, inarticulate vowel-sounds. 

When my breathing calmed down somewhat, Buffy leaned up on her elbows and asked, “So, how many licks did it take to get to the center of the tootsie pop? Was it sixty-nine? Or was it seventy?”

“I dunno,” I said dreamily, basking in the afterglow of a wonderful orgasm, “I wasn’t counting.”

“Hmmmmm,” Buffy said playfully, “I guess we’ll just have to start all over again. Make sure to count this time.”

My eyes widened in horror.

“Oh God! Buffy no,” I protested, “That last one was really intense! It was like I gave birth to a hurricane! I’m really, really tender down there right now! You gotta give me some time to rest before you start licking me again!”

Buffy grabbed my thighs and forced my legs even further apart. On reflex, I struggled against her grip, but she’s the Slayer. She’s like super-strong, and I’m just a science nerd. I’m not really strong at all.

Then she leaned her face menacingly close over my exposed, defenseless vulva and she licked her lips in a way that somehow managed to be both seductive and threatening at the same time.

“Buffy, please,” I protested, “I’m really sensitive down there right now! Please!”

Buffy stuck her tongue out really far and she lowered it down towards my vulnerable loins, and I flinched and closed my eyes tightly.

When I opened them, Buffy was still leaning over my tender, defenseless pubic lips, but her tongue had been retracted back into her mouth. She had a mischievous smile on her face, but she no longer appeared to be intent on attacking my overstimulated pussy again.

“Sorry, Will,” Buffy apologized, “But you look really cute when you squirm like that.”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized that I’d been holding and my upper body collapsed back onto the bed as all of the tension went out of my body.

 

Buffy crawled up the length of the bed, lay on top of me and then kissed me on the lips.

“So, how’d I do on my oral exam?” Buffy asked me in a playful tone of voice.

“You did very well on the oral,” I replied, just as playful as my girlfriend, “You are the king of oral.”

We kissed again and I rested up, trying to gather up my strength for round two.


	7. We're going after Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Willow discover that Faith is in Cleveland. Is she still evil? Does she have to be stopped? Is she one of the good guys again? Does she need Buffy's help? Nobody is really sure, however, Buffy and Willow are willing to go to Cleveland to find out.

Buffy and I were both naked and sprawled across the bed. I was smiling and basking in the post-orgasmic afterglow and regaining my strength.

Buffy was lying on her stomach and I couldn’t help but admire the perfect shape of her firm, tiny butt. It was the perfect shape and size. I reached over and grabbed one of her buttocks and squeezed. Buffy squirmed slightly and made a happy, girlish gasp in response.

“You sure like those buns, don’t you, Will?” Buffy asked smiling.

“It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I see you naked,” I replied smiling, “You still look yummy and extraordinary. I could never get tired of your body, it’s so athletic and perfect.”

“You’re not exactly a wrinkled old lady yourself,” Buffy replied, “Willow Rosenberg naked is a pretty special treat. You’re real eye-candy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Buffy replied with conviction.

“God, I am so glad we ended up together,” I said, and without putting much thought into it, I rolled on top of her and began to place adoring kisses on her lower back, buttocks and the backs of her thighs.

“Oh God, Will,” Buffy moaned, “That’s teasing.”

My kisses got closer and closer to Buffy’s slick, swollen pubic lips, but I ignored them and kissed her inner thighs instead. Buffy opened her legs wider and wider, giving me easier access to her needy sex, but I kept ignoring her obvious hints. 

The sexual tension must have been really high, as Buffy spread her legs apart so far it was almost a dancer’s split and then she lifted her hips slightly off the bed. I admired my girlfriend’s athleticism and flexibility. I admired the view of her perfect adductor muscles in her inner thighs as she stretched her perfect legs so far apart. She looked almost like a gymnast performing some sort of difficult stretching exercise…if gymnasts ever performed stretching exercises in the nude.

After I took time to adore the perfection of my girlfriend’s sculpted, athletic body, I playfully continued to neglect her poor, needy pussy. Instead I kissed and licked at her inner thighs less than an inch away from her sex and blew softly across her anus and swollen pubic lips, making Buffy shudder.

“Will, this is pure torture,” Buffy complained, “You are so going to get punished for this.”

“Just think about this as payback for making me get naked on the campus lawn,” I replied firmly yet playfully.

“That was two months ago,” Buffy protested, “You can’t still be holding a grudge abouuuaaaaahhh!!!”

I slid my tongue mischievously across Buffy’s slit and Buffy let out a loud gasp. She raised her hips up even higher off the bed and began to writhe. I took that as a signal that she approved of my actions and I did it again, this time slower and much more forcefully, tasting her pussy from the back to the front, my tongue just narrowly missing her anus and pushing along her swollen clit on the way to the top of her slit.

“Will, oh God,” Buffy exclaimed.

“You like?” I asked, pulling back slightly away from her moist sex.

“Oh God, yes,” Buffy replied, “So much yes. Please, do more of that.”

I pulled forward and got into a better position between Buffy’s legs and licked her again. Buffy shuddered and I heard a sharp intake of breath. That helped me confirm that I was doing the right thing and encouraged me to do it some more.

Buffy was very, very wet and I ended up licking away a lot of her juices as I licked across the surface of Buffy’s swollen pubic lips. I liked the way she tasted. And something about having her juices in my mouth, in my body seemed ritualistic, almost like a joining ceremony.

Buffy lifted her pelvis up even higher and made it easier for me to lick her pussy. I rewarded her efforts by leaning in and sticking my tongue into the narrow gap between her pubic lips and thrusting my tongue inside her.

Buffy made some very encouraging vowel sounds and I probed as deep inside her sex as I could. Buffy squirmed and panted and I got the impression she was really enjoying herself.

I slid my tongue into her pleasingly wet, warm orifice and wiggled my tongue around inside of her. Buffy made eager, happy sounds in response, so I continued doing that vigorously until my tongue began to wear out.

“Oh God, Will,” Buffy pleaded when I pulled my tongue out from her beautiful pink pussy, “Don’t stop! I was almost there!”

Buffy looked flushed and her breathing was really heavy. I felt a little guilty about pulling my tongue out of her just as she was about to reach orgasm, so I gave her my best apologetic-face and said, “Sorry.”

I got onto my back and slid underneath Buffy’s pelvis, like a mechanic sliding underneath a car. And when I located Buffy’s clit, it was raw, swollen and had emerged from its hood. I smiled at the sight of my girlfriend’s sensitive, needy clit, inched up towards it, took it carefully into my mouth and began to suck on it like a sweet candy.

Apparently Buffy wasn’t ready for me to take her clit into my mouth. She gasped louder than I’d ever heard any woman gasp and her legs wobbled and just gave out on her. Her pelvis collapsed and fell on top of my face. 

“Uhhfff,” I protested as Buffy’s pelvis hit me in the face and knocked my skull back down flat against the mattress below.

“Sorry, Will,” Buffy apologized, “That was just…intense.”

Buffy and I both had to reposition ourselves before I could begin to suck on her clit again, only this time I placed my hands on her inner thighs to help support her lower body and make sure it didn’t come crashing down on my face again.

I liked the taste of Buffy’s swollen, pink clit in my mouth and I sighed softly before I began to suck on it again. Perhaps it’s a good thing I sighed at the beginning, because my girlfriend was so close to orgasm, it only took a few seconds before she was shuddering, gyrating and spasming in orgasmic shockwaves.

“Ooooohh, Aaaghhhh, Oh God, Aaaaaaagghhh, Will,” Buffy exclaimed loudly, perhaps too loudly. Belatedly, enough of my blood circulation made it to my brain and I remembered that Buffy and I didn’t live alone and some of this loud, orgasmic screaming might be heard by our roommate.

Buffy continued to scream and shudder wantonly until the orgasm was done. And then; even after the orgasm was over; there was some post-orgasmic twitching. I held onto Buffy’s thighs and let her pant and twitch as long as she felt like it. I loved having my hands on her beautiful, firm thighs and I loved having my face so close to her pussy. Lying here with my face and hands touching my girlfriend’s naked body was just about the best place to be in the universe.

Buffy finally let out a deep sigh and then said, “Oh God that was good.” And about two minutes later, she added, “I don’t ever want to get out of this bed.”

“Getting out of bed is highly overrated,” I told her and then kissed her on the thigh. “I think we should stay here for a while.”

“Oh yeah,” Buffy agreed, “For a long, long while.”

* * * * * * * * * *  
We didn’t get up out of bed until the next day. When I woke up the next morning, my face was still near Buffy’s clean-shaven vulva and it was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes.

“Wow, that’s a good way to start your morning,” I thought and I slowly began the process of crawling out of bed.

“Ughhhhm,” Buffy exclaimed inarticulately as I shifted my weight on the mattress.

“I don’t have any classes today,” I said to my girlfriend as she lay naked and in an odd position with her head strangely underneath a pillow, “How about you?”

“Ugmmmm,” Buffy replied crankily, and then she added, “No classes until Thursday. I should be allowed to sleep in. Let me sleep in, you wicked witch!”

I got dressed and smiled at my grumpy girlfriend’s prone form. Her naked body was uncovered and available for me to admire. She had never gotten underneath the blankets and only her face was obscured from my view.

Once I was dressed in a t-shirt and blue jeans I padded barefoot out into the kitchen and grabbed a coffee mug. Terri was already in the kitchen and had brewed up a fresh pot of coffee.

“Wow,” Terri said when she saw me. Her eyes were round and wide and she stared at me as if I was Superman, Albert Einstein and Wonder Woman all rolled into one.

“Hi, Terri,” I said as I grabbed the coffee decanter by the handle, poured a generous amount of hot, dark liquid into my mug and set the decanter back onto the burner.

When I had a full mug of coffee, I turned back towards my roommate and she was still looking at me like I was Wonder Woman, descended freshly from the sky.

“Um, what’s up?” I asked, obviously referring to Terri’s look of wide-eyed admiration.

Terri answered, “I’m kind of in awe of the sounds I heard coming from your bedroom last night. The two of you sounded really…enthusiastic.”

I felt my face grow hot and I’m sure I was blushing. Buffy and I usually try to keep our sex life private and I was kind of outside of my comfort zone knowing that Terri had heard my lovemaking with Buffy the night before.

“You two sounded extraordinary,” Terri elaborated.

“I’ve tried and tried with Tara, but I’ve never been able to make her sound like that,” Terri said, sounding somewhat disappointed.

Terri looked at me like I was supposed to have some answers and make things spectacular for her and Tara in bed.

I held my mug of coffee defensively in front of me and said. “Wait, you’re not expecting me to give you a tutorial on lovemaking, are you?”

“Well, I did come to UC Sunnydale to get an education,” Terri replied.

I was torn between feeling embarrassed and feeling like one of the cool kids. Terri was good-looking and athletic. These things would have made her popular in high school, but now she was coming to me for advice on sex.

I made a mighty attempt to repress my embarrassment and looked into Terri’s wide, expectant eyes and started asking questions about her lovemaking technique. I kept my coffee mug up near my face and took a sip every now and then. Somehow having the mug between me and Terri made me feel slightly less nervous. I’m really not sure why.

It turned out that Terri was treating sex like the fifty-yard dash. From the starting line she ran like a bat out of hell at top speed and attempted to make it to the finish line at top speed. She used her tongue with great energy and enthusiasm on Tara’s clit and attempted to bring Tara to orgasm as quickly as possible.

“Oh,” I said softly, shifting my eyes from Terri’s face to Tara’s and then back to Terri again, “I think I may see your problem.”

I took a sip of my coffee and began to dispense my advice.

“If you want a really powerful orgasm, you don’t want to start with direct clitoral stimulation. I mean…clitoral stimulation is great, but save that for last. Good sex is less like a fifty-yard dash and more like a marathon. You don’t touch the clit until you’re near the finish line. During the first twenty-six miles you want to build up the sexual tension with lots and lots of foreplay.”

“You do that much foreplay with Buffy?” Terri asked, seemingly amazed, “Seriously?”

Again I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment. I so did not want for this to turn into a discussion on my sex life with Buffy.

“Seriously,” I replied, “Things like French-kissing, nipple stimulation, kissing her inner thighs and licking her outer labia will all do a slow buildup of sexual energy without actually bringing Tara to orgasm. The more foreplay you do, the more sexual energy you’ll accumulate. The more sexual energy you accumulate, the bigger the orgasm will be when you reach the finish line. I recommend between twenty and sixty minutes of foreplay before you actually put your mouth on her clit.”

“Sixty minutes?” Terri asked aghast, “An entire hour? Willow, an hour is an awfully long time for foreplay. I’ve got classes, homework and extracurricular activities. How am I supposed to find an entire hour just to do foreplay?”

I shrugged my shoulders and then said, “The more foreplay, the bigger the orgasm. Try to find a way to fit the foreplay into your schedule.”

I thought it was odd that Terri was coming to me for advice on how to be a better lesbian lover. Terri had been having sex with girls for over two years now. I’d only been having sex with girls for about two months. Terri had been doing this for about twenty-two months longer than I had! She was the more experienced one, yet she was coming to me for advice!  
I took a sip of my coffee and mulled that over.   
My best guess was that I had the advantage due to being a science nerd. As a science nerd, I was very analytical. I liked to study things. I liked to know how things worked. When Buffy and I became lovers I experimented a lot with Buffy’s Body and determined what parts of her body were the most responsive to my touch. I figured out what sort of stimulation got the best reactions. I studied Buffy’s body, learned what worked and what didn’t. I learned that Buffy responded better if I held off on direct clitoral stimulation and waited until after lots and lots of foreplay before I targeted her clit.  
Terri wasn’t a science nerd. Terri was a jock. She had more strength, speed and endurance than I did, but she probably didn’t have my intellectual curiosity or my willingness to do a lot of analysis and study.

I smiled at the thought. Who would have thought that being a science nerd could make you a better lover?

Eventually the smell of the coffee lured Buffy out of bed. She poured herself a mug, added milk and sugar and drank deeply. It was amazing watching the process as she became more and more awake.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” I asked.

“Coffee,” Buffy replied.

Then she had a few seconds to think about it and added, “Then shower, then more coffee, then get dressed and then Giles.”

“Round two?” I asked.

“I figure that by the time I’m ready to see him this morning, he’ll be done talking about the Doctor and Xander will be done talking about lesbian sex. So we should finally be able to talk about Faith.”

“Think she’s in trouble?” I asked.  
Buffy gave me a look. Her eyes weren’t fully open and she quite obviously wasn’t fully awake, but the look seemed to say, “Seriously? Do you really even need to ask?”

“She’s Faith,” Buffy finally replied, “When is Faith ever not in trouble?”

* * * * * * * * * *

When Buffy and I arrived at Giles’s apartment, we were both surprised to see that Xander had brought his girlfriend with him. The main reason this was a surprise, was because we didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. Ever since Anya broke up with him, he’d complained almost nonstop about the burden of being a dateless nerd. When did he start dating again?

“Oh, Sam, these are my friends, Buffy and Will,” Xander said, attempting to introduce as after the three of us had spent several seconds staring at each other uncomfortably.

“Isn’t Will a boy’s name?” Sam said as she shook my hand.

“It’s short for Willow,” I explained.

“Isn’t Sam a boy’s name?” Buffy asked, giving a certain symmetry to the questions.

“It’s short for Samantha,” she explained.

Sam was extremely good looking and strongly resembled Lisa Kudrow. Her hair was almost as red as mine, whereas Lisa Kudrow’s hair was a golden blonde color, but other than that, she looked a lot like Lisa Kudrow. She was tall, slender and had an oval-shaped face. She also smiled a lot, which seemed strange since she’d been discussing vampires and other Hell-mouthy topics with Xander and Giles before we arrived.

“Apparently Sam and Xander met after she had been bitten by a vampire. The vampire had been foolish enough to bite Sam just shortly before sunrise. And before Sam could perish from exsanguination, the vampire burst into flames.”

“Newbie vamps,” Buffy said dismissively, “They shouldn’t be out hunting that close to dawn.

“Yes,” Giles said, somewhat in agreement, “At any rate, Xander arrived shortly after the vampire had combusted and was able to drive her to the hospital to be treated for blood-loss and minor burns.”

“I’d never been attacked by a vampire before,” Sam offered, “I was all ready to freak out, but Xander just took it all in stride. He seemed to know what he was doing, so I trusted him. He told me to get into his car, he drove me straight to the hospital and took me right to the front desk and got the E.R. nurse to take a look at me.”

“Julia or Elaine?” Buffy asked.

“Dasha,” Xander replied.

Sam got a shocked look on her face and was really quiet for several seconds, and then said, “You guys are actually on a first name basis with the E.R. nurses?”

“We spend way too much time at the hospital,” I explained.

“Vampire bites, stab wounds, perforation wounds, severe cases of the flu, cases of going into a coma,” said Xander as he began, listing off a number of reasons that we Scoobies had ended up visiting the Emergency Room. 

“And that’s just a partial list,” Giles said.

“We’ve all done time at the E.R. for one reason or another,” I added.

“So, I’m not the first,” Sam said.

We all shook our heads in negation. Giles somehow managed to make his head-shaking look more British than ours. I’m really not sure how he managed to do that.

“This is a disturbing sort of town,” Giles added, “Those of us who wish to survive must know where the hospital is and how to get there quickly in the event of an emergency.”

“Wow,” Sam replied, and didn’t seem to have any other comment to add to that.

The silence that followed lingered and started to get uncomfortable, so I killed the silence by asking the question I’d come there to ask.

“So, what are we going to do about Faith?”

“Who is Faith?” Sam asked, and I waited to see if anybody else wanted to answer that question.

Nobody did.

“She's a friend," I said, then I added, "Well, first she was a friend, then she was an enemy, then she was in a coma. I guess I'm not sure what she is right now."

“She’s still a slayer,” Buffy said, “That means she’s our responsibility.”

“Wait, I thought Buffy was the Slayer,” Sam interjected, looking accusingly at Xander.

“She is,” Xander insisted, “She totally is.”

“But you said, there can only be one slayer,” Sam said, now looking accusingly at Giles, “You said a new slayer can’t show up until the old slayer dies!”

“We sort of encountered a loophole,” I explained.

“Buffy died about three years ago,” Xander elaborated.

“I drown in a shallow pool of water,” Buffy explained, “I was only dead for about a minute, but it was long enough for a new slayer to be called up.”

“I gave her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,” Xander said proudly, “Got her breathing again.”

Sam nodded slowly at all of this and attempted to process the information. She looked like she was getting overwhelmed.

“So, where is this Faith now?” Sam asked, “And who decides if she’s a friend or an enemy now?”

Xander shrugged his shoulders and he turned and made eye-contact with Giles. That seemed to make sense to me, so I turned and made eye-contact with Giles too. Giles was sort of the unofficial leader of our group, and we quite often turned to him for answers.

Giles looked like we caught him somewhat unprepared and for a few seconds he just stood there. He set his mug of tea down on the table and cleaned his glasses and said, “Well, we’re really not certain where Faith is at the moment. After she recovered from her coma, she made a brief appearance at Buffy’s home, and then she disappeared.”

“She claimed she was on a mission,” I added.

“What mission?”

“She says she has to rescue some guy named Hypnos.”

“Hypnos is the name of a Greek god,” Sam offered, “Do you think Faith went to Greece?”

Buffy, Xander and I all shrugged. Giles seemed to consider the question and then replied, “She might have gone anywhere.”

Then; almost as if on cue; Giles’s phone rang.

“It may take months, but we’ll just have to be patient and wait until a clue turns up as to her whereabouts,” Giles added as he held the receiver in his hand, then he said, “Hello,” to the person at the other end of the line.

I was standing close enough that I could see Giles’s facial expression change. Even before he said anything I could sort of sense what was going to happen.

“It’s Faith,” Giles said, sounding somewhat put out, and handing the receiver to me, “She would like to speak with you.”

Giles had a very vexed look on his face, as if Faith had just made him the butt of some sort of well-timed joke and I struggled not to smirk. 

I held the receiver up to my face and said, “Hello.”

“Hey, Red,” said Faith’s familiar voice, “I ran into a snag, and I kinda need your help.”

“My help?” I asked, “What can I do?”

As I spoke, Buffy stood very near and silently mouthed the words, “Where is she?”

I was able to decipher what Buffy was trying to say, but held off on asking Faith for her current location, and instead listened. Sometimes people are more forthcoming if you just stay quiet and let them talk.

“I need some witch mojo,” Faith explained, “You’re still a witch, right?”

“Sure,” I said, “You need some kind of spell?”

Faith made some sort of noise of agreement and elaborated, “Hypnos is locked up in some big-ass house on Franklin Boulevard. I tried to bust in the front door, but there’s some sort of mystic barrier surrounding the entire house. I was thinking maybe you could come out here and say some magic words, zap the house with a magic wand, give it the evil eye or whatever…make the mystic barrier go away. You can do that kinda stuff, right?”

Buffy was now getting frantic. She grabbed a pad of paper and a pen and wrote down the message, “WHERE IS SHE?” and shoved it in my face.

I ignored the pad and asked, “Is this a Norse Runic barrier, a Druidic barrier of protection, a witch’s gate of uninviting, a Buddhist refuge spell or is it one of the shamanic sort of magic barriers?”

There was a long pause. Buffy gave me a frantic, impatient look as if I were committing some sort of felony by not asking Faith immediately for her current location, and I held up a hand with my palm out towards Buffy as if to signal her to be patient.

And finally Faith said, “Red, you remember who this is, right? This is Faith. When you say things like Druidic or shamanic, it sounds like your speaking in some sort of foreign language. I don’t know shit about all this magical mystery tour stuff. That’s your gig.”

“Sorry,” I said. 

“All I know is, the barrier’s about three inches thick and it seems to surround the entire house, the front door, the back door, the windows, everywhere that a slayer might try to sneak in.”

I absorbed the information Faith was telling me, but it wasn’t very helpful. What she was describing could be almost any sort of mystic barrier, and the less I knew about the barrier, the worse my chances were of knowing how to dispel it.

“Look, just get down here,” Faith final said, “You take a look at it and figure out what kind of barrier it is.”

“Um, and where exactly is there?” I asked.

“Cleveland,” Faith replied, “Call me when you’re at the airport. I’ll pick you up. I’ve got a rental car.”

“Wait! Call you? How am I supposed to do that? You never gave me a phone number!”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. You can reach me at 216-361-8969. You got that?”

I took the pen and pad of paper from Buffy and wrote down the phone number. I repeated it back to Faith just to make sure I got it right. It would have really sucked to fly all the way out to Cleveland and then realize I couldn’t contact Faith because I wrote down her phone number wrong.

“Okay, got it,” I told Faith when I was sure I had wrote it down correctly.

“Yeah, that’s the phone number for the front desk. When you call just have ‘em transfer you to room number 113. I’m registered under the name Lauren Stenroos.”

“Lauren what?”

“Stenroos,” Faith replied, “That’s spelled S-t-e-n-r-o-o-s. That’s the alias I’ve been going by since I left Sunnydale. Hypnos told me where I could get a driver’s license and two credit cards under that name. The credit cards are pretty cool. When I woke up from my long-assed nap, I didn’t have any money, so it was really nice of him to come up with a way for me to pay for stuff.”

“Seriously?” I asked, “He was able to do that, even though he’s a prisoner?”

“He’s got skills, Red. He was able to talk to me for months while I was in a coma. He can do all kinds a stuff. And if I bust him loose, he’ll be able to do even more. So, you gonna get your ass down here and help me got Hypnos out of his fix?”

“I’m on my way,” I said.

“Thanks, Red. I owe you one.”

I hung up the phone and Buffy looked at me like she was about to have a cow. Her eyes were wide, her face was turning red and her mouth was wide open as if she was about to start shouting at me.

“She’s in Cleveland,” I said.

Buffy visibly relaxed at that revelation and then I added, “She wants me to come up there and do a spell. There’s some sort of mystic barrier that’s stopping her from completing her mission. She wants me to undo the barrier spell, so that she can break into the place where that Hypnos guy is being held.”

“Well, you’re not going alone,” Buffy insisted, “I’m coming with you.”

“Wait. If Faith is asking you for help, does that mean you guys are friends again?” Sam asked.

Both Buffy and I shrugged our shoulders, and then I added, “Probably.”

“So, she’s probably your friend and you’re dropping everything and traveling to Cleveland to help her out.”

“Well, when you put it that way, it sounds kinda weird.”

“If she’s still our friend, we’re obligated to help her,” Giles explained, “And if she’s not our friend, then she’s probably gone back to committing acts of evil. If that’s the case, we’re obligated to stop her.”

“Either way, somebody needs to go to Cleveland and see what Faith is up to,” Buffy added.

* * * * * * * * * *

Bringing down a mystic barrier without knowing what sort of barrier it was, was going to be a problem. So, I decided to go to the Magic Box and see if they had anything that could help me out.

Ever since the Magic Box’s previous proprietor had been murdered, the place was run by Jennifer Dark, and her brother Nathan.

“Jennifer,” I said cheerfully, when I saw the slender, dark-haired woman behind the counter. She always had a smile for me, which actually earned her a lot of points in my book. Far too many of the people I’d met in Sunnydale were arrogant and dismissive and treated me like I wasn’t worth acknowledging.

“Willow,” Jennifer said, flashing me a cheerful smile, “Good morning!”

“How’s tricks?” I asked her. It was sort of my standard amusing line whenever I greeted her or Nathan.

“I wave my magic wand,” Jennifer said, “And customers appear.”

Nathan and Jennifer were usually more creative than I was and had come up with a number of responses to my question. Jennifer’s response this morning was new and different, and kind of clever. I liked it.

“I need your help with a project,” I confided to Jennifer.

“What’s up?” she asked, leaning forward and making serious eye-contact. Jennifer was an excellent listener. Weeks from now she would remember every word I said to her. It was almost spooky how good she was at listening to people and memorizing what they said.

“I have a friend up in Ohio,” I began. “Her younger sister is dating a new guy, and my friend has never really been sure if he was trustworthy or not. And just this morning, she discovered that he has some sort of mystic barrier on his basement door. She’s really paranoid about what he’s hiding down there, and she asked if I could come out to Ohio and take down the barrier, so she can see what he hides down there.”

The little white lies were necessary in my opinion. If I told Jennifer the truth, she’d end up worrying about me. She’d insist that it was too dangerous, and then she’d do everything in her power to keep me from going to Ohio…not that my life in Sunnydale is exactly safe.

“You think it might be a drug lab?” Jennifer asked, raising one eyebrow. She was a firm believer in the maxim that you should never mix drugs with magic. Magic was tricky enough when you were focused. Using magic while under the influence of crystal meth or cocaine or some of the other street drugs, could ruin your concentration and make spells go really wrong.

“You never know,” I said, gesturing widely with my hands and increasing the emotional intensity of my voice, “He has a lot of money, but he doesn’t seem to have a job! That’s one of the reasons that my friend doesn’t think he’s trustworthy!”

“Hmmmmm,” Jennifer said, biting her lower lips and taking time to think, “I don’t normally advise snooping around in other people’s homes, but in this case, it sounds warranted. Can I assume the barrier is a witch’s gate of uninviting?”

“That’s the thing,” I said passionately, “My friend isn’t a witch! She doesn’t really know anything about magic, so she has no idea what sort of barrier it is!”

“Oh, wow. Getting prepared to bring down that barrier won’t be easy,” Jennifer said, “Not if you don’t know what sort of barrier it is.”

I looked at Jennifer hopefully, and with wide eyes. In addition to being a good listener, she was also a good problem-solver. When it came to mystical dilemmas, she was usually quite adept at devising solutions.

She went silent for a while and her eyes sort of went all distant as she mulled over the problem. I waited patiently for about three or four minutes, while Jennifer thought it over. Jennifer’s problem-solving process works best when you allow her to think in silence and don’t interrupt her. Any talking would only work as a distraction, and would make it take far longer for Jennifer to come up with a solution.

The silence seemed to have a weight of its own the longer and longer I waited, however I knew better than to interrupt Jennifer. She had a brilliant mind, but you had to allow her to arrive at her conclusions on her own. You couldn’t try to rush her, encourage her or cheer her on. That approach would only slow things down.

Suddenly, Jennifer stood bolt-upright, broke the silence and said, “I’ve got it!”

“Wait here,” Jennifer ordered, and then she ran into the back of the store. She didn’t tell me what her idea was, but she seemed so confident and enthusiastic, I was pretty sure her idea was a good one. 

Several customers came in and started browsing while I was waiting. Nathan Dark showed up out of nowhere and started asking people if he could help them. Nathan was like that. One second he would be nowhere in sight. The next second he was standing right next to you. I’ve often suspected that Nathan had mastered some sort of invisibility spell and that he used it to spy on his customers and make certain they weren’t shoplifting.

“The solution is right here,” Jennifer finally announced, as she came out of the back with a small item in her right hand.

She reached across the counter and handed it to me. It looked like an antique level lock key.

“A key?” I asked, but even before the words were out of my mouth, I could feel the hum of magical energies emanated from the item in my hand. It was like the vibrations of dozens of guitar strings, all concentrated into this one tiny item, powerful energy concentrated into a very small place.

“It’s called the apertor ex foribus,” Jennifer explained. “We got it in an estate sale, after a wizard died up in Portland. It’s a talisman that can be used to open a way that is closed. It should be able to help you take down any mystic barrier.”

The item in my hand appeared to be made of iron. It was rare for something made of iron to be enchanted, but I couldn’t deny the fact that this iron key felt almost like a living thing, its magic was so strong.

“How much?” I asked, and the vibrations of power from the key changed ever so slightly. The vibrations radiating from the key intensified and a surge of power traveled from my hand and through my arm. Just holding the apertor ex foribus made me feel stronger and more confident. I was really liking this feeling.

“Those things are pretty rare,” Nathan said, suddenly standing right next to me, “It could be years before we get another one in stock.”

“One-hundred and twenty dollars,” Jennifer said.

For a college student; with no official source of income; one-hundred and twenty dollars is a lot of money. I flinched slightly when Jennifer told me the price, however I really, really wanted this thing. Anyway I could make some money tutoring other students on campus and fixing their computer problems when they downloaded a virus, or couldn’t get their printer to print.

I counted out six, twenty dollar bills to Jennifer and she wrote me out a receipt. The hum of mystical energies seemed to intensify and become even more pleasurable after I became the key’s official owner. It was almost as if the apertor ex foribus was alive and it wanted me to take it home.

 

* * * * * * * * *

I was walking home from the Magic Shop, when I ran into Buffy’s mother. I had known Buffy’s mother for years and she and I had always been friendly, however I had kinda begun to avoid her after Buffy and I had become lovers.

Maybe it was irrational for me to do that, but somehow making small-talk with Joyce seemed weird when I knew that I’d be going home and having sex with her teenage daughter later. It wasn’t like I was doing anything wrong, but looking Buffy’s mother in the eye and trying to act all innocent didn’t really seem like an option when I knew what Buffy looked like naked and I knew how Buffy’s sexual juices tasted on tongue.

“Willow,” she said enthusiastically and gave me a motherly sort of hug. She made small-talk, asked me about college, asked me if I had everything I needed for my place off campus and next thing I knew, she was offering me a ride home.

I couldn’t think of a logical reason to turn her down, so I let her walk me to her SUV, she loaded her groceries into the back and I put my seat belt on, while I waited for Joyce.

While Joyce was driving, she had to keep her eyes on the road, and that made me feel less nervous. The less eye-contact Joyce and I made, the less guilty I would feel.

Then, when I had finally gotten to a point where I felt relaxed, Joyce slowed down, stopped at a red light and said, “By the way, Willow, I actually do know that you’re having sex with my daughter.”

“Oh, dear God,” I exclaimed and thought about getting out of the SUV and running away, “Buffy actually told you?”

Joyce’s mouth stretched out into a thing smile and she said, “Not exactly.”

There were a few seconds of very uncomfortable silence and I touched the release button on my seatbelt. The light was still red and if I was going to run, it might be a good idea to do it while the vehicle wasn’t moving.

Finally Joyce broke the silence by saying, “The past few months every time I talk with Buffy, she can’t have a conversation without mentioning your name. She knows your birthday, she knows your class schedule, she knows the names of all of your teachers, she knows the grade you got on your last psychology quiz, she knows your waist size, she knows your inseam, she knows your favorite movies, your favorite authors and she knows your favorite kind of coffee from the Espresso Pump.”

I gave Joyce a nervous sideways glance and said, “Well, we live together now. You can learn a lot about a person when you share the same living quarters.”

“M-hmm,” Joyce said skeptically, “You also live with a girl named Terri. Buffy has mentioned her name only twice in the past two months, and she has no idea what Terri’s class schedule is.”

“Well,” I began and tried to think of something to say that would poke holes in Joyce’s hypothesis.

“Willow,” Joyce said in a friendly, comforting voice and she gave me another of those sidelong glances, “I don’t have any problem with you having sex with my daughter.

“You don’t?” I blurted out, and then I let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“You’re a very nice girl, Willow,” Joyce said, focusing her eyes on the road again, “I’ve always liked you. And now that Buffy is that age, she could certainly have chosen somebody far worse than you to have sex with.”

I let out another sigh of relief and took my thumb off of the release button on the seatbelt.

“The only problem I have,” Joyce added, “Is that I know you used to date boys. I remember you and that boy Oz were involved for over a year.”

I wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but I started feeling nervous again.

“Willow, my daughter is utterly obsessed with you. She worships the ground you walk on. And if you don’t feel the same way-if God forbid, you’re viewing this as some sort of college experiment thing-and you break up with Buffy so that you can go back to Oz or some other boy-Buffy would be devastated.”

“No, I wouldn’t do that,” I protested, “I love your daughter! I feel just as strongly about her, as she does about me! I’m totally devoted to her! I’m not going to dump her as soon as college is over and go back to dating boys! Buffy is everything to me!”

Joyce parked the SUV in front of my home and killed the engine. She gave me a very serious look and said, “I really hope that’s true, Willow. Buffy may be a slayer, with supernatural strength and reflexes, but she’s got a heart that’s just as soft and vulnerable as the heart of any other nineteen-year old girl.”

“Joyce,” I insisted, “I worship the ground Buffy walks on! I’m not going to do anything to hurt her!”

Joyce gave me her serious-mom look and then she asked me, “What’s Buffy’s waist size?”

Without hesitation, I said, “Twenty-five inches.”

“What’s Buffy’s shoe size?”

“Six and a half.”

“When is Buffy’s birthday?”

“January, the nineteenth.”

“What’s Buffy’s favorite movie?”

“Heathers.”

Joyce asked me about a dozen more questions about Buffy, and Joyce seemed pleasantly surprised when I knew the answers to every single one of them.

She asked me not to tell Buffy about our little talk, but said she’d be keeping in touch and making certain that both Buffy and I were happy. It occurred to me that somewhere in there, Buffy’s mother had given me her blessing. She had no problem with me having sex her daughter.

As I walked into the house, I found myself strutting and overcome with self-confidence. I’d never had anyone give me their blessing to have sex with one of their children before!

* * * * * * * * * *

Of course, once Buffy’s mom gave me her blessing, I felt somehow obligated to find Buffy, wrap my arms around her and hold her like I’d never let her go. I mean the very idea that I would leave her after graduating from college! Buffy wasn’t just a phase! She wasn’t just me experimenting with lesbianism! She was the real deal! She was my forever-girl!

I went into the house and searched each room for my girlfriend. I finally found her in our bedroom, packing a suitcase.

“Hey, Will,” Buffy said, looking up from her task, “Our flight leaves in five hours. You should get packed now.”

“You’ve already made the travel arrangements to Cleveland?” I asked.

“Giles called the airport,” Buffy said, “He bought tickets for both of us. He’ll be here about three hours from now to drive us to the airport. 

“Three hours,” I said as I began to pack, “We should use the time wisely.”

“Yeah, well, one of us should tell Terri that we’re leaving. I mean- we’re probably only going to be gone a day or two, but Terri should you what’s going on before we leave. I mean, we do live together, and roommates should leave the lines of communication open about stuff like-“

I couldn’t help myself. Buffy looked so cute and Joyce’s words about Buffy being just a college experiment echoed in my ears. I wanted Buffy in my arms. I wanted to make a display of how passionately I felt about my girlfriend…even if Joyce wouldn’t be there to see it.

I clamped my mouth over Buffy’s, silencing her in mid-sentence, and I kissed her with all the heat and passion I could muster.

I held Buffy up against me and tried to mold my body to hers. I moaned into Buffy’s mouth and she allowed herself to relax and fall comfortably in to the kiss. She melted into it. It was like she could feel my love and my desire for her and she just melted into it. For a few seconds, it seemed as if I could feel Buffy’s heart beating inside my own chest. For a few seconds it was as if our passion for each other burned so hot that we melted and merged into one person.

It wasn’t the kiss of a science nerd and a slayer. It wasn’t the kiss of two college freshmen either. It was the kiss of two hopelessly devoted lovers that both had a fanatical passion for the other that could burn down entire cities. Our love wasn’t the sort of thing that made for great college sex and then fizzled out after graduation. Our love was the sort of thing that legends were made of.

When we finally broke from the kiss, we were both panting and Buffy had a beatific smile on her face. Her skin was hot to the touch, and she got a hungry look in her eyes.

“Wow, what brought that on?” Buffy asked, still breathing hard.

I didn’t want to tell Buffy about the talk I had had with her mother, so I told a half-truth that sounded very reasonable.

“Well, we’re probably not going to be able to kiss at the airport, or on the plane. It would attract too much attention. And when we meet up with Faith, we probably shouldn’t kiss in front of her. This whole trip to Cleveland could mean that we’re going to have to keep our lips off of each other for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Maybe longer,” Buffy said, the main thrust of my argument beginning to sink in.

“So, I thought it might be a good idea to get displays of lesbian affection in now, while we still have time.”

Buffy stood there silently for a few seconds, an expression of deep-thinking plastered across her face.

When she finally spoke again, she said, “You know what else we probably won’t get to do while we’re on this little mission?” 

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Doing the hot, naked orgasm thing,” Buffy replied, “I mean we certainly can’t have sex on the plane, and we’re not going to have sex in front of Faith.”

Disturbing visions of Faith standing over Buffy and I, ogling us while Buffy and I had hot, sweaty, naked, lesbian sex flashed through my mind, and I instantly felt creeped out. Some visuals are just too disturbing and should never be allowed into my head.

“Agreed, no sex in front of Faith,” I said.

“We should have sex now,” Buffy announced, “Before Giles takes us to the airport.”

I nodded my head in agreement and Buffy began the process of getting undressed. First she removed her shoes and socks and then unzipped the fly on her blue jeans.

“Get naked,” Buffy said, looking up at me and making intense eye contact.

I smiled and rapidly began to shed my clothes as well.


	8. Trouble in Cleveland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Willow arrive in Cleveland, and agree to help Faith rescue an ancient immortal named Hypnos.

I eagerly began the process of shedding my clothes.

Buffy had a head start, and she had better hand-eye coordination than I do, so she was naked before I was, however I wasn’t all that far behind. By the time she was naked, basically all I had to remove were my bra and panties.

I stepped out of my panties and added them the chaotic mess of clothes scattered across the floor of our bedroom and then I looked up at my girlfriend.

Buffy is beautiful no matter what she wears, but when she’s naked she is a super-yummy treat. I’ve tried to use words over and over again to describe how perfect her naked body looks, but my words always seem to be inadequate. I can tell you that she’s slender and athletic. I can tell you that she’s got legs like a dancer. I can tell you about her tight abs, firm breasts, perky responsive nipples and cute, tiny butt. I could even tell you about her smooth shoulders and even how her collarbone looks cute.

And yet, somehow those words don’t seem to be enough to convey what a treat her body really is. My heart beats faster and I feel warmer and happier inside whenever I see her naked. This is all true, but somehow none of these words are adequate to describe the divine treasure that is Buffy’s naked body.

I wrapped my arms around Buffy’s delicious naked body and placed my mouth firmly over hers. Buffy kissed me deeply and I felt as if I were heating up enough to melt. I moaned as Buffy’s tongue expertly and deliciously made its home inside my mouth.

I felt tingly and alive as Buffy’s hands touched my naked skin and her tongue caressed the inside of my mouth. I could feel my nipples hardening and my sex becoming moist. 

I squeezed Buffy’s firm bottom and felt how warm her skin was. We were naked, but we were warmer now than when we had clothes on. Our passion for each other had driven our body heat up to fever-levels.

Buffy broke from the kiss and sighed against me. Buffy’s naked breasts pressed against mine and her skin was deliciously hot. I deliberately rubbed my breasts against hers, creating a pleasant friction. It especially felt good against my hard, erect nipples. 

I gasped as Buffy trapped one of my nipples and began to stimulate it by rolling it between her thumb and index finger.

“God, I love your nipples, Will,”” Buffy moaned, “Your breasts are so pale, and your nipples are such a deep pink. The contrast is delicious-looking.”

I tried to kiss Buffy again, but Buffy lowered her mouth and placed it over one erect nipple, biting it gently and then beginning to suck on it. I let out a gasp and then began a long, steady series of moans as Buffy stimulated my sensitive nub with her mouth.

Buffy was doing amazing things with her mouth, causing my nipple to throb. A wave of desire spread from my nipple throughout my entire body, causing my pussy to throb with delicious spasms.

“Ooooooohhhhhhh,” I moaned and the nipple Buffy was tending to became so hard and swollen that it ached. I had to push Buffy away, as the sensations were becoming too intense for me to bear.

I tried to pull Buffy in for a kiss again, and this time she let me. Xander and Oz were both good kissers, but Buffy put them both to shame. Her lips were softer and her technique was more erotic. And neither Xander nor Oz had ever tried sliding their tongue into my mouth. When Buffy’s tongue made it into my mouth, it was a special erotic experience. I almost wish there were two of Buffy, so that one of them could kiss me and thrust her tongue into my mouth while the other one got between my legs and thrust her tongue into my sex.

Suddenly I felt Buffy’s hand between my legs and she said, “God, Will! You’re soaking wet!”

“You kinda have that effect on me,” I replied in the softest, sexiest voice I know. And then I leaned in for another kiss.

We broke from the kiss and Buffy licked some of my juices off of her fingers. When we kissed again, Buffy’s mouth tasted of my sexual juices. I decided that I liked the taste, and told Buffy to get some more of my juices in her mouth, so that we could do that again.

Ever the cooperative lover, Buffy slid two of her fingers deep inside of my sex and felt around in there, getting her fingers good and slick with my juices.

I whimpered as she pulled her fingers out and watched with erotic interest as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked my juices off.

This time when we kissed, the taste of me was stronger. I melted into the kiss and thought it was both erotic and romantic that Buffy’s mouth tasted like me. It was almost like we were merging together and becoming one person.

Buffy’s own pussy was also soaking wet and Buffy soon demanded that I pay it the attention it deserved. That meant that I soon ended up on my knees, staring at the wet, pink, swollen pubic lips of Buffy's sex. Buffy shaved her pubic area, however my face was so close to her sweet, sensual womanhood I could see tiny, minor bits of stubble where her pubic hairs were attempting to grow back. 

I took a few seconds to admire the beauty of the pink, puffy, moist slit between Buffy's firm, athletic thighs. I placed my hands on those delicious thighs, then I sighed and took one of Buffy’s swollen labia in between my teeth. I sucked on it playfully, drawing into deep into my mouth, taking my time, enjoying the feel of Buffy’s most intimate flesh being inside of me. I deemed it to be a very intimate sort of foreplay.

But Buffy was overcome with a feverish sexual need and wasn’t really in the mood for foreplay at that point. 

“Hey, don’t tease,” Buffy admonished me, “Stick that tongue where it belongs now!” 

I thrust my tongue deep inside my girlfriend and was almost immediately rewarded with loud moaning, panting and an athletic gyration of Buffy's pelvis against my face. 

Buffy made a lot more vowel sounds and held my face tightly against her crotch. I licked and probed her sex as best I could under the circumstances, and Buffy kept thrusting her vulva into my face like she was doing a really enthusiastic salsa dance. 

"Will, Oh, Gaaaaauhhhhh," Buffy moaned as she writhed and jerked and twitched and my mouth filled with liquid orgasm. I loved the taste of Buffy, and I kept my tongue out, licking up her juices until there was nothing left to lick. 

Buffy sighed and panted and said, “Wow, that really intense.”

Normally Buffy needs my tongue working down there for a lot longer before she erupts into orgasm. I was surprised to see her reach climax so quickly. I wondered if something had gotten her all sexually worked up before I got home.

Buffy’s beautiful breasts heaved up and down as she continued to breathe heavily and she looked down at me with a facial expression of pleasant exhaustion and bliss. 

“You are a really, really good girlfriend, Will,” Buffy assured me, blissful smile still on her face, “I love you like crazy.”

“I love you too,” I assured her as I looked up from her pussy, past her breasts and all the way to her face. Her face was always beautiful, but her beauty was greatly enhanced when she was in post-orgasmic bliss. 

When I stood up, Buffy immediately placed her mouth over mine and the kiss that followed was just as warm and passionate as the kisses we enjoyed at the beginning of our lovemaking. As we kissed, one of her hands wrapped around my shoulders, and her other hand grabbed my cute little butt and squeezed it lovingly. 

Buffy kneaded my buttocks and thrust her tongue into my mouth, making me moan. I wrapped my arms around Buffy's torso and; as I kissed her; I ran my hands up and down her naked body. My hands roamed across her naked buttocks, her hips, her waist, her ribcage and her thighs. Everywhere I touched, there was hard, athletic muscle underneath soft skin. It was a delicious combination and I felt a tingly thrill that this perfect body belonged to my girlfriend and I could touch it pretty much any time I felt like it.

Buffy continued to kiss me hungrily and probe my mouth with her tongue, but her hands had changed position and now one of them had snaked between my thighs and I felt two fingers seeking entrance into my wet, needy sex.

I moaned into Buffy's mouth and spread my thighs further apart, allowing Buffy easier access to my sex. My pussy was wet and my clit was swollen at this point. And when Buffy's strong fingers impaled the center of my womanhood, I felt one spasm after another ripple through my body. I writhed, squirmed and made passionate noises as Buffy's fingers invaded my tight vagina and her tongue invaded my mouth.

"Hhuh, Aaaghhhh, Mmhhh, Uuuhhhh, Aaahhhh," I moaned into Buffy's mouth as she crushed her lips to mine, probed my mouth with her tongue and probed my pussy far deeper and far more forcefully with her strong, athletic fingers.

God, I could feel them! Knuckles! Fingertips! Banging me wide open and probing me deep. My whole body was feverish and permeated with sexual heat. My brow and my torso were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. My legs felt wobbly. I trembled and I held on to Buffy tightly for balance. Buffy wrapped one arm around me and held me close while furiously fucking my palpitating pussy with her iron-like fingers.

I moaned and whimpered into Buffy's mouth as her fingers rode me. Her fingers worked in and out, up and down and I shuddered in feverish delight as Buffy fucked me. She briefly withdrew her slick fingers from my throbbing pussy, causing me to whimper at their absence, but a moment later she impaled me again, on three fingers this time!

I groaned, grunted and whimpered as Buffy thrust inside of me, hard and deep, one powerful, merciless thrust after another, assaulting my dripping vagina, plunging into me and grinding my clit until I came.

When I finally came, I spasmed, shuddered, screamed and convulsed and would have fallen to the floor if not for Buffy's strong arm wrapped around me and holding me close.

"Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh," I screamed as Buffy and I broke from our kiss and I was overwhelmed with a howling storm of sensory gratification. My orgasm seemed to go on for days and days. There was just wave after endless wave of orgasmic force that rolled over top of me and shook my entire body. I was helplessly swept along by the wanton, orgasmic storm. There was no way to stop it, so I just screamed and allowed the massive wave to overpower me, batter me and sweep me along for as long as it lasted.

After I was overpowered by the orgasm, I went limp and boneless in Buffy’s arms. At some point Buffy laid me down on the bed, and I was kind of hoping to just lay there for the whole rest of the day.

“That was nifty,” I said when I felt I could form words again.

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time Giles showed up to take us to the airport, Buffy and I had showered, cleaned up and finished packing. I put the apertor ex foribus in my carryon luggage, but I could still feel thrums of mystic power coming from it.

“I want the two of you to be careful in Cleveland,” Giles said as we passed a sign that informed us we were a mere three miles from the airport, “You’ll be on your own there. If you get into trouble, you shan’t be able to turn to me for help.”

“We’ve got it covered,” Buffy replied, her voice brimming with easy confidence, “And anyway it’s Cleveland, right? After four years of living on the Hellmouth, I think I can handle a sleepy little town in Ohio.”

“Well, actually,” Giles said somewhat uncomfortably, “Cleveland was also built on a Hellmouth. So, it’s more than just a sleepy little town in Ohio.”

“What?” I exclaimed loudly, “Another Hellmouth? How many Hellmouths are there?”

I had thought that there was only one. Finding out that there’s more than one Hellmouth is like finding out that there’s more than Holocaust. One is plenty bad enough! They shouldn’t be allowed to have a second one!

“There’s only two that we’re currently aware of,” Giles said, attempting to sound calm and scholarly, “However there may be others. Back in 1818, there was a massive fire at the Watcher Council’s main archives. Many of our most valuable texts were destroyed, and it is hypothesized that some of the books that were destroyed have listed the locations of other Hellmouths.”

“Storing all of that valuable information on highly flammable paper,” Buffy said lamentably.

“They should have put it all floppy disc,” I added, “And made plenty of backups.”

“Are the two of you joking?” Giles asked dryly, “I can’t always tell with you.”  
The humor of American teenagers often goes over Giles’s head. He’s just so stuffy and so British. Also, he’s like thirty-seven or thirty-eight years old, so you know…he’s pretty old and out of touch with modern day stuff.

Before we got to the airport, he’d told us what the Watcher’s Council knew about Hypnos. Hypnos is ancient. The Watcher’s Council has a story of a Watcher named Magas being rescued by Hypnos  
some 2,400 years ago, after he’d been captured by Persian soldiers. 

If it’s the same guy as the Hypnos that Faith is talking about, then he’s over 2,400 years old. That’s pretty damn old. Anybody that lasts that long has got some pretty impressive survival skills, so I’m wondering how the guys in Cleveland managed to take him captive. And if they were able to capture a guy like that, were Buffy, Faith and I, enough of a rescue team to bust him loose?

“Call me when you arrive safely in Cleveland,” Giles said after he stopped in front of the airport main entrance, “And try to keep me apprised of your progress.”

Buffy made some sort of witty, sarcastic remark as she grabbed her luggage from the car, and we were off to Cleveland.

* * * * * * * * * *

Now, being a science nerd, I know a lot about thrust to weight ratios. I know how much thrust it takes to get an eighty-ton passenger plane off the ground. I know that the airplanes have jets that are powerful enough to generate that much thrust and I know enough about aerodynamics to understand how they can keep an eighty-ton passenger jet in the air for hours, but when we got on our American Airlines flight to Cleveland, all of my understanding of science just seemed to become worthless.

“This is a really big plane,” I told Buffy, as I looked out the window, “It’s really, really big and really, really heavy.”

“Yeah, so?” Buffy asked.

“So, do you have any idea how difficult it is to keep something this heavy in the air for 2,300 miles? I mean … remember when the cheerleading squad threw Cordelia into the air? It took two big, strong guys! And she was only up in the air for a second! And she only weighs 120 pounds!”

Buffy raised an eyebrow at me and said, “Will, are you afraid of flying?”

“Me? Afraid?” I asked, making a weak attempt to cover my fear, “Hah! I laugh at that question! I’m totally cool when it comes to flying! I’ve got no fear at all!!”

Buffy took my hand in hers and squeezed gently. She gave me a comforting smile and said, “Will, you’re gonna be fine. I’m right here. Remember me? I’m the Class Protector. Whenever there’s a problem, I show up and stop it. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you as long as I’m here.”

I nodded my head and squeezed her hand back. Somehow Buffy’s smile, and her hand holding mine lessened my fear a lot. 

The flight attendants gave me some weird looks, but I held Buffy’s hand pretty much the entire flight, until the plane landed safely at Cleveland Hopkins International Airport.

* * * * * * * * * *

After we claimed all our luggage, Buffy found a payphone and called Giles. Then, I used the very same payphone to call Faith.

“Hey, Red,” Faith said when she picked up. She sounded like she was talking with her mouth full.

“Faith are you eating something?” I asked automatically.

“Butterfinger,” Faith replied, still obviously chewing, “They don’t have room service in this hotel, and Butterfinger was literally the best thing they had in the vending machine.”

“Oh,” I said. I actually kind of like Butterfingers. I just can’t stand the way that the chewy parts get stuck to my teeth.

“So, what’s up?” Faith asked, “Are you on your way down here, or what?”

“Actually, I’m already in Cleveland,” I told her, “Buffy and I are at the airport right now, waiting for you to pick us up.”

There were several long seconds of silence, then I could hear Faith swallow, and then she said, “You brought B with you?”

Faith sounded kind of upset, but it was hardly the first time I’d ever heard Faith upset with me. I was pretty sure I could handle it.

“Cleveland is built on a Hellmouth,” I told Faith, “Also, I’m helping you break into the stronghold of some evil kidnappers who apparently know magic, so asking a hero with four years of battling supernatural threats to come along as my protector just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Red, this is really not a good time for B and me to have a reunion,” Faith said, sounding weary and defeated.

“Do you still want my help?” I asked.

“It’s more than want, Red,” Faith shot back, “I need your help! Without your help this whole mission is a bust!”  
“Then Buffy comes with me,” I told Faith, “Either pick up both Buffy and me from the airport, or we can both get on the next plane that’s going to Sunnydale and head right back home.”

I’d never given an ultimatum to somebody like Faith before. Faith was super-strong, dangerous and scary. Getting all serious and demand-y with Faith made my pulse race and my heart beat painfully fast in my chest, but it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time.

“Damn, Red, listen to you,” Faith said, “When did you get all badass?”

I ignored the question and said, “So, does that mean you’ll pick up both up?”

“Yeah,” Faith said resignedly, “Gimme about twenty minutes. I’ll be there.”

* * * * * * * * * *

The tension levels in the airport lobby when Buffy and Faith were face-to-face were so thick, you could cut them with a knife. 

Luckily neither Buffy nor Faith were carrying any knives at the time. Buffy and Faith had a violent history. For one of them to stab the other wasn’t exactly unheard of.

Buffy and Faith just stared at each other for several seconds without saying anything. Finally, Buffy broke the silence by saying, “Faith, you’re looking well.”

“Yeah,” Faith replied bitterly, “That's the thing about a coma. You wake up all rested and rejuvenated.”

“And doing missions for ancient, mysterious immortals, apparently,” Buffy added.

“Hypnos cares about me, B,” Faith said defensively, “He was with me the whole time I was in that coma. He’s a good guy, and he promised to help me get my life together and fix all my problems. The way I figure it, a guy like that deserves my help.”

“And you got Willow involved,” Buffy said, making it sound like an accusation.

“I just need Red to do some witchy hocus pocus on somebody’s front door,” Faith replied, defensively, “After that, she can go home. I’ll take care of the rest myself.”

Buffy and Faith didn’t exactly hug or promise to be BFFs, but neither one of them assaulted the other, and they both agreed to behave themselves during the short period of time that I’d be in Cleveland. We loaded all of our luggage in the trunk of Faith’s Honda Accord, and Buffy and I got into the back seat.

There was a lot of uncomfortable silence as Faith drove. The silence seemed heavy and crushing, and I prayed for Buffy and Faith to start talking to each other.

And then; much to my regret; my prayers were answered.

“So, B,” Faith began, in her most casual and innocent tone of voice, “I hear you and Red have been trading tongue rides these past couple months.”

Buffy didn’t react to Faith’s words immediately. I think it took her a few seconds to translate the phrase “tongue rides” into proper English, but once realization dawned on her, she exploded with rage.

“What the hell, Faith?” Buffy exclaimed.

And then on the heels of that, she added, “How the hell do you even know what Willow and I have been up to? Were you creeping around, spying on us before you left Sunnydale?”

“Seriously, B? You think that’s my style?” Faith asked.

“Hypnos told me all about you two,” Faith declared, “The whole time I was in a coma, Hypnos told me what was going on in the real world. He told me about Angel leaving town. He told me about you and Red doing the college-girl thing. He told me about Wolf-Boy getting all naked and doing the wild thing with Wolf-Girl. There’s not much that’s gone in in the past eight months that I don’t know about.”

At the mention of “Wolf-Boy” I felt a sharp pain in my chest. Wolf-Boy was Faith’s childish way of referring to Oz. And Oz doing the wild thing with Wolf-Girl was Faith’s way of referring to the time that Oz had sex with Veruca. Oz was my boyfriend at the time, and it had been a huge emotional wound when I realized that he had cheated on me.

I didn’t mention any of this out loud. I just took one of Buffy’s hands and grabbed it tightly in mine. I needed emotional support, and holding Buffy’s hand was the best I was going to be able to do while sitting in the back of Faith’s car.

“So, does that make Hypnos a voyeur?” Buffy asked.

“Well, I mean when you say it like that…,” and Faith trailed off. She hadn’t anticipated Buffy’s question and now she seemed to be caught totally flat-footed.

“I mean, he seems to know exactly who’s having sex with who,” Buffy continued, “Is he watching us every time we have sex?”

Faith made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat but couldn’t seem to come up with a smartass reply fast enough.

“He’s like a Peeping Tom,” I added helpfully, “He’s like a nerdy college freshman spying on the college girls in the shower.”

“He’s really more like Santa,” Faith countered somewhat lamely, “Y’know, he sees you when you’re sleeping, he knows when you’re awake, he knows if you’ve been good or bad.”

“I sleep in the nude,” Buffy shot back, “Santa should be ashamed, ogling me while I’m sleeping.”

There was a sound that came out of Faith’s throat. At first it sounded like she was choking, but then she burst out into boisterous, exuberant laughter. She laughed so hard that tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her face.

“Yeah, that Santa is a real perv,” Faith replied when she finally stopped laughing. And just like that, Buffy and Faith stopped with the animosity towards each other. Things got a loss less tense. It seemed too easy to me, but if everything was working out between Buffy and Faith I wasn’t going to question the credibility of the situation.

* * * * * * * * * *

Eventually, the sun went down and that’s when Faith decided that it was time to break into the house on Franklin Boulevard and bust Hypnos out of there. It was snowing when we reached Franklin Boulevard. I couldn’t seem to stop staring as the white fluffy flakes drifted down from the Ohio sky. You don’t really see a lot of snow in Southern California, and I was kind of hypnotized by the unfamiliar precipitation.

“I’ll drive around the block a few times,” Faith said, “And if the coast looks clear, I’ll park the car someplace, we’ll have Red do her mojo and I’ll sneak in and do the rescue thing.”

“So, when you’re looking to see if the coast is clear,” I asked, “What exactly are you looking for?”

“I dunno,” Faith replied, as she methodically scanned the streets, “Some dude who looks out of place, maybe somebody who’s loitering in front of the building, basically anybody who looks lurk-y or suspicious.”

I was still watching the snowflakes fall as Faith drove down the block, and failed to notice the very suspicious-looking and extraneous stranger making his way down the street, until Buffy pointed him out.

“I’m pretty sure that guy looks out of place,” Buffy declared and I shifted my gaze to see which way she was pointing.

He had one foot on the sidewalk and the other out in the street, but that wasn’t what really made him look out of place.

He was wearing a tunic made from boiled leather and animal fur. His boots seemed to made from crudely sewn-together leather and animal fur as well. And he wore an iron spangenhelm to protect his head. Everything he wore seemed to come from the ninth or tenth century, however, that’s not really what made him look out of place either.

What really made him seem out of place was the fact that he stood about twelve or thirteen feet tall and he had massively broad shoulders that were about six feet across.

“You got that right, B,” Faith declared as she put the car in reverse, “He looks suspicious as fuck.”

“Seriously?” I exclaimed in outraged protest when I saw the massive threatening creature standing on Franklin Boulevard, “A friggin’ giant?”

Faith attempted to drive back down the block, however the giant in tenth century clothing had other ideas. He grabbed a motorcycle from a nearby parking space and hurled it down the street. There was an ear-splitting crash as it smashed into a vehicle that was about two car-lengths behind us, and both the motorcycle and the BMW it had hit were horribly damaged.

There was broken glass everywhere and the body of the BMW had become horribly warped. The hood of the BMW was dented all to hell and driver of the car got out to complain about the damage to his car.

“Fuck,” he exclaimed loudly, “I just had two more payments ‘til this thing was paid off! What the fuck? Who’s gonna pay to fix this?”

The thirteen-foot tall malefactor that had thrown the motorcycle chose that moment to march briskly and menacingly forward. The driver of the BMW noticed the large culprit about a half-second later and suddenly decided that finding a guilty-party to pay for the damages to his vehicle wasn’t a top priority.

“Aaaaaiiighhhh,” he screamed and fled down the street with an impressive display of speed. There was now about an inch of snow on the ground, and I had assumed that Mr. BMW would slip and fall on the white powdery substance, but he ran like he had wings on his feet, and he never fell even once.

“Weapons?” Buffy asked as the Big Bad got closer and closer.

“In the trunk,” Faith replied, and both slayers exited the car simultaneously. Faith unlocked the trunk and I tried not to breath or make any loud noises. I figured if I didn’t attract any attention to myself, the giant might not hurl any vehicles at me. The two slayers pulled out identical battle-axes from the trunk and Faith went left while Buffy went right.

Buffy and Faith both rushed forward, trying to flank the giant, but he was so big, one step for him was like three of four steps for Buffy. He could outmaneuver Buffy just by moving at the same speed.

When Buffy got close enough, the giant kicked her, and sent her flying through the air, like she was a soccer ball. She hit the ground about thirty of forty feet later, and slid down to the end of the street, leaving a path in the snow until the momentum ran out. 

And then; out of nowhere; the giant came up with a sword. The sword was bigger than I was and looked really solid, and heavy. It looked like it could cut a Buick in half. He ran up to where Buffy’s prone body was lying in the snow and brought the sword down, two-handed.

Buffy rose to her feet rapidly and did several evasive maneuvers, spinning and reorienting herself to keep the giant in her sights and keeping out of the range of that massive sword of his. Buffy had a battle axe in one hand, but it looked small when compared it to the size of her opponent.

The giant swung his broadsword in a wide arc, and Buffy would have been sliced in half, but she did a couple of backwards rolls to evade being sliced. Buffy was moving super-fast to avoid being killed by the giant, I could barely track her movements she was moving so fast. Her reflexes were super-human.

As fast as Buffy was, she was trying to evade an opponent that was basically three times her size. And his broadsword was longer than Buffy was tall. Eventually Buffy’s superhuman reflexes weren’t enough and one of the giant’s blows connected. Fortunately, Buffy was hit by the flat of the giant’s blade, and not the sharp edges of it.

So, Buffy wasn’t sliced in half, however the giant’s attack hit her with enough force to send he hurtling through the air again. 

She flew through the air for about seventy feet, and then slid across the snow another thirty feet after she hit the ground. I think she got the wind knocked out of her, as if took her a few seconds to get back into a standing position.

The giant menacingly advanced on Buffy’s location and raised his broadsword in a threatening; yet clumsy; attack posture. He wielded his sword more like a club. He didn’t seem to know proper sword-fighting techniques…not that I was complaining. His superior size made him quite a massive threat, even without proper combat training.

But before the giant could bring the sword down and cleave buffy into a bloody corpse, Faith rushed him from behind and slashed at the back of his right leg with her battle axe. There was a spray of blood and the giant bellowed and dropped to his knees.

“I cut your fucking hamstring, asshole,” Faith screamed as the giant took his eyes off Buffy and swung his sword in Faith’s direction, “How’s that feel?”

Faith’s reflexes were just as fast as Buffy’s and she arched her spine into an extreme arch like a demented limbo contestant, rapidly ducking underneath the giant’s clumsy attack. 

“SLITNA YKKARR BEIN,” the giant bellowed at Faith, and he swung his sword at her again. This time Faith did an extremely graceful vault and leaped over the giant’s sword as he attempted to cut Faith in half.

And while the giant was distracted by Faith’s acrobatics, Buffy made a spectacular leap and her powerful legs propelled her up to eye-level with the giant. The giant gave Buffy a look of stunned surprise and annoyance. For a dramatic moment, my girlfriend hung there; looking graceful and athletic; and then she swung her battle axe, slicing the giant’s carotid artery open and sending a liquid explosion of dark, red blood everywhere.

Then gravity took over, and Buffy went sprawling back to the ground again. The snow was rapidly soaked with the blood of the giant, and it fell over, dead.

I finally got out of the car and walked through the snow, over to Faith and Buffy.

Both of them were smiling.

“Two slayers, working together, B,” Faith said with companionable enthusiasm, “We’re an awesome double-threat.”

“That was pretty awesome,” Buffy agreed.

I looked at Faith and my girlfriend and felt somehow left out. Faith and Buffy were both slayers. They had superhuman strength, resiliency, endurance and reflexes. They stood up to vampires, hellhounds and giants. They killed the things that haunted our darkest nightmares.

And me? I was a science nerd that ran away when scary things made their appearance. I knew some spells, but nothing that would have killed a giant. Hell! None of my spells would have even slowed him down!

“So, Red,” Faith said, suddenly smiling at me, “Ready to work your witch mojo? We’re just a few houses down from the one with the crazy-mystic no-trespassing sign.”

Suddenly I felt better about myself. I wasn’t strong or athletic, but I was the one that Faith had asked to come to Cleveland. I was the one Faith needed to complete her mission. I suddenly felt taller and more confident.

“I’m your witch,” I said avidly, and I allowed Faith to lead me to the house with the enchantment on it.

The house where Hypnos was being held captive was a tall, imposing, vintage building. It was four stories tall and looked to be over 100 years old. Adding to the building’s creepiness, there were antagonistic-looking gargoyles perched up near the top, and there were turrets looming above us at each of the building’s corners.

The rest of the block was just condos, done up in a modern style of architecture.

“This building looks really out of place,” I said, “It looks nothing like the buildings that surround it.”

“Yeah, that’s weird,” Faith replied.

“Those gargoyles look fiendish and angry,” Buffy observed as she pointed to where one of stone gargoyles was perched, “They’re not going to come to life, swoop down and attack us, are they?”

Neither Faith nor I had an answer to that one. So, we spent several minutes just standing there, staring at the gargoyles and waiting to see if they were going to make a move.

They never did.

I let out a sigh of relief. For once, I caught a lucky break. Then Faith marched me up the steps to the front door of the house.

I placed my hand up against the door and encountered the mystic barrier that Faith had been talking about.

The barrier wasn’t Wiccan and it wasn’t Druidic. Wiccan magic feels warm, like basking in the heat of the sun a beautiful summer day. Druidic magic feels like the slow, somber drum beat of some primitive, ancient music.

The mystic energy I felt from this barrier was cold. It sent cold shivers down my spine and caused goosebumps to break out all over my body. I’d never encountered magic like this before. Luckily, I’d brought the apertor ex foribus with me.

The apertor ex foribus was sort of like a mystical lock-pick kit. A witch could use it to take down most mystical barriers. I pulled the apertor ex foribus out of my pocket and held it against the mystic barrier. The energies of the barrier met the energies of my mystic lock-pick, and I could feel the two of them beginning to fight against each other.

It seemed as if the apertor ex foribus was about to defeat the mystic barrier, but then everything stopped.

I blinked twice and pulled back. It just didn’t seem fair to travel over two-thousand miles, get attacked by a giant, only to be defeated at the very end of my quest.

“What’s wrong, Will?” Buffy asked, “Doesn’t the key-thing work?”

“Oh, it works,” I explained to Buffy, “It’s just this barrier. It’s got more energy powering it, than I’ve got powering my mystic lock pick. And I’m not strong enough of a witch to boost the apertor ex foribus’s magic.”

Then Buffy put her hand over mine and asked, “Would it help if you added the strength of a slayer to your witchy strength?”

I had to think about that for a second. Slayers were mystically enchanted creatures. If I maintained physical contact with Buffy, I probably could drain enough mystical energy off her to enhance the power of the apertor ex foribus and boost it enough to overpower the mystic barrier.

Eventually I answered, “I think that would help. I think that might be exactly what I need!”

I held up my mystic lock-pick up to the door, Buffy grabbed my hand to share her energy with me, and then; much to my surprise; Faith grabbed my hand as well. I turned to her in surprise and gave her a questioning look.

“Hey, a triple-threat is better than a double-threat,” Faith said, as if that explained everything.

And maybe it did. Faith and Buffy added their energy to my own, and for a few seconds I felt a euphoric high as my body was flooded with powerful energies. I felt like I was floating on air, and in orgasmic ecstasy as Buffy’s and Faith’s energies merged with my own. I felt powerful. I felt invincible. I felt like I was ten feet tall. I let out a laugh of pure delight, and the mystic barrier was dissolved with ease. It was like dissolving snow by pouring hot coffee on it. It was just that easy. I felt like I was an irresistible force, and no power on Earth could stand up to me!

And then I heard Buffy’s voice say, “Will?”

I looked around. We were no longer standing in front of the building. We were now in the main foyer and I was no longer holding hands with Buffy or Faith.

“You okay, Red?” Faith asked, “You were laughing like one of those supervillains with the handlebar mustache and the evil plan to foreclose on the orphanage and throw all the orphans out into the street.”

“Um,” I said, not certain how to reply to that.

Sharing energy with Buffy and Faith had been a heady experience. I had enjoyed it a lot more than I thought I would. It totally swept me away and made me lose control there for a few seconds.

“Um, well I guess the barrier came down,” I finally said.

Then I looked at my hand and saw that there was a tattoo on the palm of my hand that resembled an antique lever-lock key. The apertor ex foribus was gone, but a tattoo was there.

“What the hell is that?” Buffy asked, gazing at my tattoo.

I looked at it, bewildered. I had never heard of mystically acquired tattoos before. It was almost like the apertor ex foribus got absorbed into my skin.

Then a thought occurred to me and I said, “Buffy, let me see the palm of your hand.”

It turned out that Buffy had an identical tattoo on the palm of her hand.

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” Faith exclaimed and she held up her right hand, showing she had an identical tattoo on her palm as well.

“Okay, Will,” Buffy said, “What does this mean?”

I stared at the tattoo on my right hand and furrowed my brow, “Well, obviously something strange happened when I did the magic to bring down the barrier.”

“You think?” Faith asked sarcastically, “This is like a friggin’ episode of the Twilight Zone.”

The three of us got so engrossed with the mysterious tattoos on the palms of our hands, we totally failed to notice when a robed figure entered the room.

“I don’t know how you managed to get past Hjálmarr,” the adversarial voice shouted, “But your intrusion into my house goes no further than this!”

The guy looked really sinister in his black robes, complete with a full hood that concealed his face. He also carried a long, wooden staff that might have been a wizard’s staff, or it might have just been something that the big-bad thought would look cool.

Buffy and Faith refused to be intimidated, and Faith actually managed to look bored.

“Hjálmarr?” Faith asked, “Was he the big steroid-king outside in the homemade boots?”

Faith paused for a second, and before the sinister mister could answer, Faith teasingly added, “He was running around with sharp objects and poor thing sliced himself up really bad. Yeah, he bled to death right out there in the snow. Was he a friend of yours?”

“I summoned him up from Jötunheimr, and bound him to my will,” the robed figure informed us heatedly. 

“Do you have any idea how difficult that is?” he asked us, “The Jötnar don’t like taking orders from us mere mortals. It was a hell of a lot of work binding him to my will. And now you’re telling me that he’s dead?”

“I guess it sucks to be you,” Faith replied, still looking unimpressed with our cowled host.

I didn’t know if this guy knew any real magic or not, but I was kind of hoping we might not have to find out. A battle with a real wizard could get messy, and I didn’t know any spells that were any good in combat, so I tried to deescalate things.

“Look, we heard that you were holding somebody here against their will,” I said, “We don’t want to disrupt your life or kill any more of your Jotnar. If you just let your prisoner go, we’ll get out of your hair, and you can get back to your summonings, conjurings or whatever it was you had planned for today.”

I thought it was a pretty good offer, and based on the long silence that followed, I inferred that he was actually considering accepting my offer. A tiny smile slowly crept across my lips as it appeared that we could conclude Faith’s mission without any additional violence.

And then the hooded guy had to go and ask, “Which prisoner did you want me to let go?”

“Which one?” Buffy asked, her voice thick with anger, “You’ve got more than one?”

I knew that tone. Buffy was outraged and indignant. Things were going to get messy, really, really soon. Holding one person against their will was bad. Holding multiple people against their will was unforgiveable, and Buffy was now honor-bound to kick this guy’s ass.

“Show me,” Buffy demanded as she stormed across the main lobby towards Mister Sinister, “Take me to the prisoners right now!”

The main lobby was at least fifty feet from front to back, but Buffy covered that distance in about two seconds, grabbed the hooded guy by the front of his robes, picked him up and pinned him to the nearest wall.

“Well, I could do that, I suppose,” Mister Sinister said, “But there’s kind of a problem.”

“What’s the problem?” Buffy asked heatedly, still holding him up with one arm.

“I don’t really want to,” he replied dryly.

And then in a loud voice he called out, “Bikkja! Brymja! Drengr! Freki! Ulfr!”

I had no idea what those words meant. They didn’t really sound like a spell, and I told Buffy so. Buffy shook him like a terrier shaking a rat and demanded, “What did you do?”

Then we all heard it, growling and the sound of paws galloping across a titled floor.

“Wargs,” Buffy’s captive gloated, “They’re not as big as Hjalmarr, but they’re strong, they’re fast, and they’re smarter than Hjalmarr was. And when they see intruders in my house, they’re going to eat you up like lamb pré-salé.”

“Uh oh,” I exclaimed. I’d read about wargs. They were like wolves, only bigger, stronger and more intelligent. And just as I was thinking that, a door on the far side of the lobby slammed open and five of them came bounding into the room.

“B! We’ve got company,” Faith shouted and she rushed forward into the wargs, her battle axe at the ready.

Buffy released her grip on Mister Sinister and rushed into combat as well. The wargs were clever. They didn’t attack one at time, they used teamwork. One warg would rush towards Faith and while she was intent on defending against the warg in front of her, a second warg would dart forward and take a bite of Faith on her flanks.

They worked fast, and they seemed to be able to communicate with each other through a series of growls and chuffing noises. And to make matters worse, they had superior numbers. There were five wargs and we only had two slayers.

Buffy seemed to take all of this in in the matter of two or three seconds, and then decided to use a different strategy than Faith. Faith had tried rushing into the wargs and swinging her battle axe in front of her, intent on slicing through any inch of warg flesh she could make contact with. That strategy wasn’t working. The wargs were countering her with teamwork, extraordinary speed and hit and run tactics.

Buffy rushed at the wargs, but before they were able to close with her, Buffy made a spectacular leap, leaped completely over the warg nearest her and ended up landing on the back of another warg.

There was a howl of outrage as Buffy’s fingers dug into the grey fur of the enormous beast, and then Buffy raised her battle axe and screamed, “Turn! Turn left! Go that way!”

Trying to ride the warg was about the most insane and outrageous thing Buffy could have tried. It startled the other wargs enough that Faith was able to take advantage of their surprise slide a deep gash into the haunches of one of the wargs when it paused to focus on Buffy’s antics.

Another warg pounced forward and attempted to rip Buffy off of her perch, however Buffy swung her battle axe and blood spurted from its nose. The wounded warg howled and scurried away.

Considering that they were outnumbered five to two, Buffy and Faith were doing pretty well, however, I still wanted to help them. I wasn’t tough enough to battle a warg, however it occurred to me that Mister Sinister might be controlling them with his staff, and if I could wrest his staff away from him, I might be able to control the wargs and stop them from attacking my girlfriend.

Okay, there were a lot of “ifs” in that plan, but it was the best I could come up with on the spur of the moment.

Now, I’m not very strong, and I don’t know a lot about combat, but Xander told me that if you want to face off against a boy, the best place to hit them is in their testicles. Apparently, they’re extremely sensitive, and even a weak blow to a boy’s crotch will leave them in severe and incapacitating pain. Based on this knowledge, I ran forward and attempted to kick Mister Sinister in the crotch.

Mister Sinister had been focused on his wargs and almost failed to notice what I was up to. When he noticed my charge, I was just inches away. Then he took his staff and he swung it at me, causing me to arch backwards to avoid being hit. I evaded the blow, but I arched back so severely that I lost my balance and ended up falling flat on my ass.

Then Mister Sinister pulled back his hood, showing me the angry face of a boy. He couldn’t possibly be older than twenty or twenty-one. He was only slightly older than Buffy and me. I had to quickly remind myself that he was still dangerous. He might be young, but he had sicked wargs on Buffy and Faith. And he was probably responsible for that giant attacking us outside on Franklin Boulevard.

“This is stupid,” Mister Sinister yelled as he glared at me, “I am not going to be threatened by three little girls!”

Then he pointed the tip of his long, wooden staff at me and I could see carved runes on the staff glowing white-orange with some sort of mystical heat. I could smell some sort of wood-smoke and I knew what Mister Sinister was going to do before he actually did it.

“Bål,” he screamed at the exact same moment that I kicked out with my left foot, knocking the wooden staff sideways and ruining his aim.

A lance of flame as thick as my wrist lashed out from the tip of his wizard staff. If I hadn’t kicked it aside at the last second, he would have cremated me.

Instead, his shot went wide, traveled almost fifty feet across the lobby and hit one of the wargs instead. There was a loud “Whump” as the warg’s grey fur was ignited a loud howl of pain as the warg’s fur, skin and muscle tissue began to burn away like cardboard and wrapping paper.

There was a moment of stunned silence and the wargs stopped attacking Buffy and Faith and instead focused on our black-robed wizard.

I don’t know how he had been controlling the wargs before, but apparently igniting one of the wargs with an orange and white ball of flame was enough to break that control. They apparently held a grudge against anyone who set one of their brothers on fire. The four remaining wargs growled in unison, sounding almost like the revving engines of a motorcycle gang and then they advanced, two wargs flanking him, one attacking from the front and another coming at him from the rear.

Mister Sinister managed to fire off one more fireball before he was set upon, however that only neutralized one of his attackers. The other three wargs tore him to shreds within a matter of seconds.

Once he was dead, the three remaining wargs circled the bloody mess on the floor and would took turns baring their teeth at us.

“I don’t speak wolf,” Faith finally said, “But I think they’re trying to tell us the battle is over, as long as we don’t try to take their kill away from them.”

“Their kill?” I asked.

“The wizard guy,” Faith elaborated, “They killed him. They get to eat him.”

“I’ve got no problem with that,” I replied softly, “I’m more of a coffee and donuts kind of girl. If they wanna eat freshly-killed teenage wizard, I’m totally cool with that.”

The wargs continued to growl at us, but we kept their distance and they didn’t attack. Faith led us cautiously away from the wargs and eventually found us a door that she was pretty sure led down to the basement. The door was locked, but Faith simply grabbed the doorknob and yanked the doorknob and the locking mechanism out of the door with one loud, wrenching pull.


	9. The Rescue Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy, Faith and Willow rescue an ancient immortal, as well as a human female named Stephanie. Faith is given a reward, and the ancient immortal owes Buffy and Willow one favor each.

Faith led us cautiously away from the wargs and eventually found us a door that she was pretty sure led down to the basement. The door was locked, but Faith simply grabbed the doorknob and yanked the doorknob and the locking mechanism out of the door with one loud, wrenching pull.

Having a slayer or two around is always helpful. They’re very strong.

The three of us stood in the doorway and I looked down the stairs into the basement. The stairs were made of concrete and painted grey. I looked down those stairs and noticed some shadows moving across the floor. Then I heard a male voice call out, “Nathan! Hey, is that you? Don’t you know how to knock? It’s not all that…”

Then, I saw the shadows become sharper and more organized, and suddenly a naked man walked into my line of sight. 

During my years in high school, I had dreamed about catching glimpses of some naked guy (mostly Xander), but this guy was no eye candy. He looked to be at least thirty-five years old, and he had far too much body hair. And in stark contrast to the hairiness of his chest, abdomen and groin area, his head suffered from a serious receding hairline. 

The hair around his groin was so severe, it almost looked as if he didn’t have a penis. This guy was in desperate need of some shaving, or maybe some laser hair removal.

“Holy crap,” the unpleasantly hairy man exclaimed, “You’re not Nathan. You’re the ones the oracle warned me about.”

I was so focused on the naked guy’s physical appearance and poor grooming habits that I totaled failed to consider that he might be a threat. Oh God! It was almost as if I was turning into Cordelia! And when he whipped up a spell that could have killed me if I just stood there with my mouth gaping open.

Massive icicles of different sizes suddenly streaked through the air and I was slammed into the floor as Faith tackled both Buffy and me. Being knocked to the floor hurt, but it also saved my life.

For a few seconds, Buffy, Faith and I lay there on the floor and I used that time to assess the damage of the flying ice-missiles.

Quite a few of them were the size of javelins or spears. Several of them hit the basement door and somehow ripped it off its hinges. One of them had hit a large chandelier and ripped the lower half of it away. Several others had embedded themselves into the far wall of the lobby. Another one had struck a warg in the throat and killed it. The warg just lay on the floor with a massive icicle jutting out of its neck and a massive pool of blood formed underneath it’s still twitching corpse.

“Thanks,” I said to Faith. Her reflexes and quick thinking had saved my life, probably Buffy’s too. She’d come a long way from her days as the mayor’s evil henchman.

Or henchwoman.

Henchperson?

Whatever. It was good to see her back on the side of the good guys.

“Anytime,” Faith replied as she slowly crawled off Buffy and me. And is it wrong and disturbing that I noticed how shapely Faith’s ass is when she crawled off me and across the floor?

The two remaining wargs padded over to the body of the warg that had gotten punctured by a giant icicle. They sniffed at the dead quadruped briefly and then let out a long, mournful howl.

“I don’t think they’re happy that their friend got killed,” Buffy commented as she helped me up off the floor.”

“They sound pissed,” Faith said.

After twenty seconds or so of ear-splitting, mournful howling, the two remaining wargs took off in a gallop and hurtled themselves down into the basement. I had visions of the wargs attacking the naked guy who had cast the icicle-spell and ripping his throat out, however, shortly after the wargs launched themselves down into the basement, everything went quiet.

The growling stopped, the howling stopped, and even the sounds of the large warg toenails clicking against the hard floors stopped.

“What the hell?” Faith asked softly, almost whispering.

“It doesn’t sound like the wargs tore that guy to pieces,” I whispered back.

Faith, Buffy and I cautiously crept back over to the basement door and risked a glance downstairs. It didn’t take more than a second to see that the bloodthirsty wargs that had rushed down into the basement were now helplessly frozen in a large, oddly-shaped, thick coating of ice.

The naked guy saw us and gestured with his hands. A thick cloud of fog sprung up around him and I could see snowflakes floating in that fog. I immediately guessed that he was in the midst of casting some sort of spell, and then he pointed a finger directly at us.

This time, Buffy and Faith both grabbed me and pushed me out of the line of fire. When his spell hit the top of the stairs, there was nobody there to be a target.

Instead, the spell hit the top stairs and the floor where we had been standing. Those top stairs and a section of the ground-level floor were now covered in a coating of ice about six inches thick.

“Your plan isn’t going to work,” I heard the naked guy shout at us from down in the basement, “The Oracle told me that you’d come to try and steal my greatest prize from me! But I’ll kill you if you try!”

Faith got a look of angry determination on her face and she yelled back, “You kidnapped a guy! He’s a decent, trustworthy kinda guy, and I’m gonna break him outta this place! You try and get in my way, and I’m gonna kick your ass!”

After Faith made this announcement, I could hear the naked guy’s mocking laughter in response.

The look on Faith’s face went from angry determination to seething outrage in a split-second. She sprinted towards the door and hurled her battle-axe down into the basement, screaming, “Laugh this off, asshole,” and then sprinted back away from the door.

“Oh, I’m afraid that didn’t work,” the naked wizard called back a few seconds later, “I’m still alive and now you’ve got no weapons!”

Faith looked mad enough to spit nails, and then suddenly, I got an idea.

“I think I’ve got a plan,” I whispered to Buffy and Faith, “I think I can defeat him.”

I huddled together with Buffy and Faith and quietly whispered my plan to them. My plan would require split-second timing and a spell I’d never used before out in the field, but I was pretty confident it would work. 

Buffy and Faith were both dubious, but I held my ground and said, “Hey, I brought down the barrier spell they had put up around this house, didn’t I?”

That seemed to win them both over, and I began the process of putting my plan into motion.

Magic is tricky business. Even if you know what you’re doing, there’s always somebody out there with stronger magic or a smarter way of working their mojo. Sometimes there’s a hidden weakness to your spellcraft that you didn’t realize and another witch, warlock, wizard or some other type of practitioner will be able to take advantage of that weakness.

Anyway, I gathered up my courage and marched over to the doorway and stood close enough that I could see my opponent. The naked wizard looked up the stairs at me and his mouth set into a grim line of determination. He gestured with his hands and another thick cloud of fog appeared with snowflakes floating in the cloud. 

“You girls are persistent” the naked man announced in his loud, booming voice, “But persistence won’t gain you anything if…“

And before he could finished that sentence I worked my own magic.

 

I pointed my finger at a spot just above the naked wizard’s head and I spoke the words, "Transfundo ternas Oceanum."

The naked mage glanced up suspiciously to the spot where I was pointing. A hole opened in the fabric of reality and the wizard reflexively attempted to aim his own spell into the hole I had created.

It was a bad move on his part. The spell I had cast opened a hole between him and the Atlantic Ocean. Gallons of ocean-water spilled out from the hole and onto the wizard. By casting his own spell of freezing cold, he succeeded in encasing himself in a massive cocoon of ice.

Faith grabbed me by the waist and threw me to the floor again. I grunted as I hit the ground, and I’m sure I bruised my hip. 

“I appreciate your protective instincts,” I told Faith, “But I think you overreacted this time.”

“Reflex,” Faith replied, as if that explained everything.

Faith and I got up off the floor, then we joined Buffy at the top of the stairs. We looked down at our adversary in the basement, and the news was all good. My plan had worked. The wizard was totally neutralized.

“Did we win?” Buffy asked. “Are there more bad guys to fight or was he the last one?”

Buffy still had her battle axe. She held it up in front of her as she cautiously made her way down the stairs. Faith and I followed behind her.

“Is anybody alive in here?” I called out.

For a few seconds there was only silence down in the basement, and then I heard a female voice call out, “I’m alive.”

The female voice came from a female mouth. Upon further investigation, I learned that the female mouth was attached to a female prisoner.

“Are you guys here to rescue me?” the female prisoner asked.

Buffy and Faith covered me and examined the room for more threats. While they did that, I talked to the female prisoner.

“We’re the good guys,” I assured her.

I tried to keep maintain eye-contact with the prisoner, but it wasn’t easy. She was naked, and her wrists were shackled high up, above her head, lifting and displaying her perfectly-shaped, perky breasts. Her belly was flat, toned and her fear and tension were causing her to tense up, highlighting her strong stomach muscles. Her pubic area had been shaved bald and her pubic lips were clearly visible. Her legs were long, athletic and looked like they belonged on a professional dancer.

Okay, maybe she was a dancer. I just met her, I had no idea what her life’s story was.

“My name’s Willow,” I told the naked girl, “What’s yours?”

“Stephanie,” the girl said timidly, her eyes wide and pleading for mercy, “Are you gonna get me outta here?”

I stood up on tiptoe and attempted to examine the shackles on Stephanie’s wrists. They looked like they were made of iron. They also looked very heavy and sturdy. I examined the very old, primitive-looking lock intently, but then I remembered that I knew nothing about picking locks. Why was I bothering to study the lock so closely, if I’d never be able to pick it?

“Faith, do you know anything about picking locks?” I asked my associate with the criminal past.

“I know that if you have the key, you don’t really need to bother with lock-picking,” Faith replied somewhat teasingly.

I looked away from Stephanie’s shackles and over at Faith. Over on the south side of the room were two chairs. A disorganized pile of clothes had been stacked on one of them. Faith went through the pile, and examined each garment, one at a time. When she found anything with pockets, she turned the pockets inside-out until she found a keyring with about a half-dozen keys.

“Betcha one of these does the trick,” Faith said, holding up her newly acquired collection of keys.

Stephanie watched Faith wide-eyed, as Faith tried one key after another on Stephanie’s shackles. Eventually there was a loud click, and the left shackle popped open. The same was just as effective at unlocking the right shackle.

“Thanks,” Stephanie said when both of her wrists were freed. She looked nervously from Faith, to Buffy and then to me, rubbed her wrists, one right after the other and then said, “You guys aren’t the police, are you?”

Faith and I shook our heads in negation, and Buffy replied, “We’re Scoobies. We don’t have badges, but we have a long-standing habit of helping people.”

“The bad guy said that someone named the oracle warned him that we were coming,” Buffy said to Stephanie, “Does that mean that the oracle is here? Are they in the house? Are they going to attack us?”

Stephanie scoffed at that suggestion.

“The oracle is just a bartender named Lara. She works at a club down on Detroit Avenue. She doesn’t hang out here. She never did. Kenneth and Nathan only talked to her because they thought she could predict the future.”

“So, she can’t predict the future?” I asked.

Stephanie rolled her eyes at this and said, “If she could predict the future, why would she be tending bar? If I could predict the future, I’d be using it to play the stock market and make myself rich. She’s a fraud. She’s got to be.”

I wondered about that. If she warned the bad guys that somebody was coming to raid this house and do a rescue mission, maybe she wasn’t the fraud Stephanie believed she was. Maybe she really could predict the future. I didn’t say any of this out loud but filed the idea away for future reference. 

“We’re here to rescue a guy named Hypnos,” Faith volunteered, “Do you know where he is?”

“Hypnos?” Stephanie asked, and then before we could elaborate, she said, “Oh, you mean the freak.”

“Freak?” Buffy asked, raising one eyebrow. Faith furrowed her brow and frowned at the girl. She practically saw Hypnos as her messiah. I think she took offense at Hypnos being referred to as a freak.

“He’s a real odd one,” Stephanie said, her eyes still wide and nervous, “I don’t think he’s actually human. He’s got-”

There was a long pause, as if Stephanie didn’t trust herself to complete the sentence. But Buffy, Faith and I just silently stared at her, and the silence just got louder and heavier the longer Stephanie hesitated.

Faith looked annoyed, like she was going to grab Stephanie and shake her, and scream, “He’s got what? Two penises? An addiction to catnip? A tab at Zanzibar? What?”

After her long, dramatic pause, Stephanie finally completed her sentence, and said, “wings.”

“Wings,” Buffy asked, skeptically.

“Growing out of his back,” Stephanie elaborated, “Only larger than any wings I’ve ever seen. Eagle wings look tiny compared to the wings Hypnos has.”

Buffy, Faith and I shared a look, and then Buffy asked, “Can you show us where he is?”

Stephanie crossed her arms protectively in front of her, partially obscuring her breasts, and said, “Okay. I can do that.”

Stephanie then turned her back on Faith and me; walked away from us; and headed for the massively-huge, creepy fireplace on the other side of the room.

As Stephanie walked away from us, I couldn’t help but notice how cute her butt was. She was still naked, so I could make out the shape of each buttock perfectly. Her butt was soft around the edges with muscle definition near the hips.

Buffy noticed the way I was hypnotized by Stephanie’s adorable buttocks. She gently poked me in the ribs and whispered admonishingly in my ear, “Hey, stop staring.”

“Sorry,” I whispered back, and I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment. I thought I had been subtle and didn’t realize anyone had noticed me checking out Stephanie’s ass. I then began to very studiously study the fascinating workmanship of the watch on my left wrist. Yep, a stainless-steel Seiko with a black dial. I never noticed how impressive that looked until just that moment, when I was trying to prove I wasn’t a leering pervert.

“You’re so cute when you blush,” Buffy whispered, and I let out a sigh. All I did was stare at one naked butt. Did Buffy really need to tease and torment me for that? It’s not like I reached out and grabbed it or anything.

A sudden noise; like stone grinding on stone; made me look up from my watch. When I did, I saw that the large, creepy fireplace had rotated and revealed the secret passage behind it.

“Seriously?” Faith asked, looking admonishingly at Stephanie, “Isn’t that a little bit cliché? I’m in a group called the Scoobies, and the bad guy has secret passages in his house?”

 

“Hey, I didn’t design this place,” Stephanie replied defensively, “I’m just an innocent bystander that got taken prisoner. It’s not my fault if this creepy perv has secret passages everywhere.”

“She’s got a point, there,” Buffy said to Faith.

“Let’s just rescue this Hypnos guy and we can all go home,” I said. Faith rolled her eyes and I expected her to say something about how she was trapped in a Saturday morning cartoon, but then she shrugged her shoulders, did a neck-roll and somewhat reluctantly followed Stephanie.

Stephanie and Faith led the way, while Buffy and I brought up the rear. I had to admit, the bad guy’s secret passage was impressive. Every fifteen feet or so there were overhead lights that illuminated the passageway, but they only lit up if you were standing near them. They lit up the section you were walking through, but once you passed through, the lights switched off again.

I’m guessing there were probably sensors underneath the floor that sent a signal to the lights whenever it detected the weight of somebody standing on it. I felt it was kind of clever. It was a system that kept the passage dark most of the time and reduced the bad guy’s electricity bills.

“So, what’s the deal with this bad guy?” Buffy asked, “He kidnapped you, he kidnapped Hypnos, is he holding you guys for ransom or starting a collection, or what?”

Stephanie made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and responded, “He thinks that Hypnos is some sort of god or something. He thinks that he can pressure Hypnos into granting him wishes or something.”

“Wishes?” Faith asked, skeptically.

“Yeah, wishes,” Stephanie said, “Things like immortality, eternal youth, a goose that lays golden eggs…things like that.”

“And Hypnos wasn’t down with granting the bad guy his wishes?” Faith asked.

Stephanie sighed and replied, “Hypnos said he wasn’t willing. I think he wasn’t able. I would have given the disgusting perv just about anything to get out of his creepy hideout. He captured me, so he and his son could take turns sticking their dicks into me. Apparently, the only way either one of them could get a girl out of their clothes, was to forcibly abduct one off the street.”

There was an uncomfortable silence after Stephanie revealed the fact that she had been kidnapped and repeatedly raped. Faith finally broke the silence, in a way that only Faith could.

“Yeah, well, both those assholes are dead now, so their days forcing their dicks into defenseless women are over. Score one for the good guys.”

“Both dead?” Stephanie asked, “I saw Mister Blackpool get frozen in a block of ice…and I have no idea how you guys managed that…but Nathan…. he’s dead too? You sure about that?”

“He got eaten by wargs,” I responded, struggling not to stare at Stephanie’s naked butt, “I’m pretty sure he’s never gonna recover from that.”

Stephanie trembled and then said, “Those wargs always creeped me out. They were scary as fuck. I’m glad they were finally good for something.”

The secret passage Stephanie led us through was long, but eventually she led us out of it and into the room where Hypnos was being held captive.

Based on the information Giles gave me, I was expecting Hypnos to have deep lines in his face, a long white beard, white eyebrows and white hair.

I certainly wasn’t expecting him to look like a teenage boy.

I also wasn’t expecting him to be naked.

“This is Hypnos?” I asked, looking from the naked, male captive, to Faith and then back to the naked, male captive again.

He was actually quite cute for a guy that was supposed to be thousands of years old.

“This is him,” Faith assured me, “We just gotta bust him outta here and all of my problems will be solved.”

“Faith,” the naked guy said, in a voice that was smooth as silk, “I am pleased that you and I may finally meet in person.”

The voice really did something to me. Hypnos was cute in a smooth, slender, almost androgynous sort of way. He had soft, smooth, delicate skin, dark, silky hair and beautiful, expressive eyes. I couldn’t help but think he looked like Demi Moore would look, if Demi Moore was a teenage boy.

But when he spoke, he instantly became more beautiful. It was like he became candy for the eyes. That voice was more delicious than chocolate-covered strawberries. I glanced over at Buffy, Faith and Stephanie, and they all seemed to be enchanted by his voice too. If he were the lead singer in a band, he could make millions with that voice. He’d have sold-out concerts every time he performed.

“Yeah,” Faith replied, her voice now sounding odd, as if she were on drugs or something, “Up until now I’ve only been able to talk to you in my dreams.”

“But now you are here in person,” Hypnos replied in that gentle, silky-smooth voice.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Faith said, her voice still sounding subdued and hollow, “I promised I’d be here, and heroes always keep their word on stuff like this.”

“Heroine,” Stephanie corrected, her voice also sounding hollow and subdued, “The proper title for a female hero is heroine.”

That comment seemed to catch Faith off guard, and for several seconds she didn’t reply. When she finally managed to find her voice again, she said, “What are you? An English teacher or something?”

“I’m a writer,” Stephanie replied, “I’m published and everything. Words are my friends.”

“Perhaps this discussion on the proper use of the honorific ‘hero’ can wait until later,” Hypnos suggested, “A more immediate concern should probably be releasing me from this mystical prison.”

After hearing those words, Faith seemed a little bit less drugged and a little bit more focused. She shook her head, furrowed her brow and said, “Yeah, yeah, right. Red, you’re my buddy with the witch-mojo. Can you get Hypnos outta there?”

I examined the mystic prison that held Hypnos a prisoner and the more I studied it and focused my mind on bringing it down, the less I felt enchanted by Hypnos’s voice. I’m guessing that Hypnos’s voice is a lot like a siren’s. When people hear a siren singing, it affects them on a deep, visceral level and plays with their emotions. When Hypnos spoke, it had a similar effect on people like Faith and I, however, I was capable of resisting it the more I focused on other things. 

The tattoo on my hand hummed with powerful mystic energies as I lifted it up and placed it near the mystic barrier that kept Hypnos a prisoner. It’s almost like the Apertor ex foribus got absorbed into my skin, and now the tattoo had the power.

The mystical energies in my tattoo hummed louder and more vigorously as I placed my hand directly against the surface of the mystic barrier. The mystical barrier responded with a vigorous thrumming of mystic energies as well. For a few seconds the two opposing mystical energies seemed to growl angrily at each other, getting louder and louder as one tried to overpower the other.

I focused my will through the palm of my hand and tried to bring the mystic barrier down, but the damn thing was just too strong.

I turned back to Faith and gave her an apologetic look. 

“This thing is way more powerful than the mystic barrier I took down outside,” I said, “It’s been strengthened and enhanced like nothing I’ve ever seen before. The guys that put this thing up really did their homework. This is really advanced magic.”

I studied the mystic barrier from top to bottom and tried to explain it to Faith. She didn’t have my grounding in magical studies, so I tried to explain it in layman’s terms.

“See these crystals?” I asked, pointing to ten mystic crystals embedded into the floor and ten more embedded into the ceiling.

Faith just looked at me impatiently and I continued in my explanation.

“These crystals are sort of like the batteries that power the whole thing. They’re enchanted and pretty powerful all on their own.”

Then I pointed to the tuning forks. There were fourteen embedded in the floor, and another fourteen embedded in the ceiling.

“Each of the crystals send out a narrow beam of mystic energy. Then the beam hits one of the tuning forks and bounces off. As it bounces off, the tuning fork amplifies the strength of the beam. And then the beam bounces off another tuning fork, amplifying the strength of the beam even more. And then it bounces off another tuning fork, with amplifies the strength of the beam even more. This happens over and over and over again, making the beams stronger and stronger, and these mystic beams are basically what form the bars of Hypnos’s prison. I’ve never seen a mystic barrier like this! It’s way more powerful than anything I’ve even read about! You could drop a freight train on a mystic barrier like this and it wouldn’t even wobble!”

“Okay,” Faith said, taking a few steps closer and seeming to be deep in thought, “So the barrier is really strong.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “It’s like if you made bomb-proof bunker out of lead and slabs of concrete, at least ten feet thick. It can withstand almost anything.”

“And it’s powered by those crystals?” Faith asked.

“And Hypnos can’t reach out and touch the crystals?” Faith asked.

“No. Hypnos is inside the barrier, and the crystals are on the outside,” I said.

Faith responded by getting a really playful smirk on her face. A heartbeat later, Hypnos’s face broke out into an identical smirk. Buffy and Stephanie soon followed Faith’s example.

“What?” I asked.

“You wanna do the honors?” Buffy asked, and held up her battle-axe, offering it to Faith.

“Thanks, B,” Faith said as she accepted the battle axe from Buffy’s hand.

And that’s when I finally understood.

The barrier itself was so powerful, you could hit it with an anti-aircraft missile, and nothing would happen to it, but the crystals that powered it, were vulnerable. All you would need it a strong right arm and a blunt instrument to smash them to pieces.

“Aaaaarghhhhhh,” Faith yelled inarticulately as she began smashing crystals with Buffy’s battle axe.

She smashed crystals and tuning forks one after another, after another, and each time she destroyed one, the barrier that surrounded Hypnos became weaker and weaker.

Faith was really enjoyed herself. She had a huge, ecstatic grin on her face, and several times I heard her laughing as she smashed enchanted crystals into shards of flying debris. She danced and spun around in circles, pivoted and swung her battle-axe again and again. It was kind of fun to watch. Faith was really enjoying herself and her joy was kind of contagious.

With the destruction of the final crystal, the mystic barrier flickered out of existence and Hypnos stood there, a free man.

And then, I finally noticed the wings growing out of his back. They were huge wings, with feathers as black as coal. I mean…Hypnos was still beautiful, but those wings reminded me that Hypnos wasn’t exactly a man. He wasn’t exactly human. He was something ancient, immortal and mysterious.

Hypnos gazed up at the ceiling and spread his wings wide. They were huge and majestic-looking. He flapped his wings repeatedly and he raised himself up off the ground, flying across the room and setting down only when he had cleared the area with the shards of broken crystal.

I’m guessing he didn’t want to walk across shards of crystal in his bare feet. That could be painful.

“Faith,” Hypnos said, his voice delicious and soothing once again, “I owe you and your confederates a great debt for freeing me from my captivity, but before I can pay that debt, I must first have food. And then I must procure clothing.’

“Clothing is second on your list?” Stephanie asked, her arms still crossed in front of her, obscuring her breasts to the best of her ability, “I’d put it at the top of mine.”

Hypnos raised an eyebrow at Stephanie and replied, “I have been a captive here for over eleven months, and my captors have not fed me during that entire time. My hunger pains are quite extraordinary.”

He sounded so calm when he said it. If I had been starved for months, I’d be a pathetic mess. I couldn’t understand how he was being so dispassionate and stoic about it.

“Wait,” Stephanie demanded, “If you haven’t eaten in almost a year, why aren’t you dead? I’m not a medical doctor or anything, but don’t most people starve to death in like six or seven days, if they don’t get anything to eat?”

Hypnos blinked twice, sighed and then answered, “My kind do not die quite so easily. If you starve me for months, I shall suffer remarkable agony, but I shall not perish. The denizens of my homeland are very nearly unkillable.”

That shut Stephanie up, and then we were led down another secret passage to the kitchen.

* * * * * * * * * *

Have you ever seen a person who’s been starved suddenly be given access to food? It’s kinda disturbing.

As Hypnos ate and drank, tears welled up in his eyes and his stomach made pathetic, whining, groaning and gurgling sounds. And when he paused in between chewing and swallowing he would pant, as if the mere act of eating and drinking were somehow exhausting him.

Clothing was a little bit different. I thought that Hypnos’s wings would prevent him from wearing a shirt, but he sort of just made the wings shrink down to the size of a butterfly’s wings, so he could wear a shirt over top of them.

That solved one problem, although we couldn’t find anything that fit Stephanie or Hypnos. I mean…we found clothes that they could wear, but they looked awkward and uncomfortable wearing the clothes we found in the upstairs bedrooms. And there were no women’s clothes to be found anywhere, so Stephanie had to go without panties or a bra.

“Even in death, Nathan and Kenneth Blackpool visit indignities upon me,” Hypnos complained.

Hypnos had a slender waist, and his shoulders were kinda narrow, but he was tall. Thus, when he borrowed pants from the closet of Nathan Blackpool, they were loose around the waist, but the legs were far too short. The sleeves on the winter jacket were too short too.

Stephanie wasn’t nearly so tall, but she was about as skinny as I am, so she was basically swimming in Nathan Blackpool’s clothes. Everything looked baggy on her as Nathan’s clothes were several times too large for her. The only thing that fit well were the shoes.

“it would be nice if the jerk had hung onto my clothes for me,” Stephanie grumbled, “But instead, he burned them in some sort of ritualistic, misogynistic ceremony that was supposed to break my spirit, or some bullshit. The guy was some sort of perverted loser.”

“Nathan Blackpool and his father were both very disturbed individuals,” Hypnos confided, “They were both utterly lacking in remorse or shame, and neither Nathan nor his father had any capacity for love. Their sex lives were sad and impersonal. They used women for crude sexual purposes, without ever forming any emotional attachments to them.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Stephanie snapped irritably, “He was a perverted loser, and a jerk.”

The corners of Hypnos’s mouth quirked up at the edges, and I got the idea that he was amused by Stephanie’s comments. Circumstances had made them both prisoners in this house, but they were nothing alike.

Hypnos ignored Stephanie’s comment and turned to Faith instead.

“Faith, you and your friends have freed me from my abhorrent captivity,” Hypnos announced, “And for this it is only fair that you should be rewarded.”

Her voice filled with enthusiasm, Faith asked, “You’re gonna fix all my problems, right?”

Hypnos nodded and replied, “Everything we agreed to shall come to pass. The human race shall forget that Faith Lehane ever committed acts of an evil or illegal nature. Even written records of your past misdeeds shall be conveniently destroyed or lost forever. Your reputation shall be repaired.”

“Wait,” Stephanie snapped, “You can do that? You can just play with people’s minds and rip memories out their heads? What are you?”

Hypnos turned his head and scowled at Stephanie. He seemed rather unhappy with her choice of words, but he answered her question anyway.

“I am the son of Nyx and Erebus,” Hypnos replied, “And while you are sleeping, you are in my realm. I can populate your nights with terrible nightmares, or erotic dreams of libidinous bliss. I can fill your mind with brilliant inspirations or snatch away your most precious memories. Humans once believed me to be a god, and built temples dedicated to my worship.”

Stephanie took a step backwards. Hypnos’s voice no longer sounded soothing. Now he sounded cold and menacing. I was starting to wonder if we’d made a mistake by freeing him.

“I guess humans have changed, huh?” Buffy said, moving in closer to Hypnos and distracting him from Stephanie. It looked like Buffy’s defensive instincts were kicking in. I think she was ready to defend Stephanie from Hypnos if he got too creepy.

“The old ways are long gone,” Hypnos said mournfully, “The temples built in my honor crumbled away centuries ago. Now humans worship performance artists; action heroes on the movie screen, mezzo-sopranos on MTV, NASCAR drivers, and fleet-footed, agile men that sprint across a court and hurl balls into elevated baskets.”

“Well, I still think you’re pretty awesome,” Faith said, “I mean I didn’t actually know you existed until I was in that coma. But then you showed up and introduced yourself and made a kick-ass deal with me. I can see why people used to worship you. You changed my life, H-bomb.”

Hypnos raised an eyebrow and dubiously asked, “H-bomb?”

“It’s a kick-ass nickname,” Faith explained, “I only give those out to people I like. Enjoy it.”

The look on Hypnos’s face clearly indicated that he did not enjoy his new nickname, however he didn’t seem to feel like getting into a discussion about why he didn’t like this new nickname.

“Willow Rosenberg,” Hypnos said, turning to face me, “You were also instrumental in freeing me from my captivity. You are also deserving of reward. What would you request of me?”

I was caught flat-footed. I had only come to Cleveland and taken down that mystic barrier because Faith was a friend. I wasn’t expecting to get any sort of reward. What should I do? Oh! I could ask for a million dollars! Or maybe not. That sounds like something Cordelia would ask for, and did I really want to turn into Cordelia? I’m pretty sure I wanted to avoid doing that.

“I really don’t know,” I said after a few seconds of hesitation, “Could I have some time to think about it?”

Hypnos responded by pulled a large black feather out of nowhere and handing it to me. Then he said, “Take as much time as you like. When you know what you desire of me, simply hold this feather in your hand and speak my name. If it is within my power to grant your request; and it is something that will not harm me or my confederates; it shall be granted.”

“Um, thanks,” I said as I took the feather from him. I still didn’t know what I should be asking for, but when a powerful, godlike immortal promises to do me a favor, I figure that’s got to be a good thing. 

Buffy wasn’t sure what she wanted either, so she also ended up getting a black feather, and a promise that Hypnos would grant her wish later when she knew what she wanted.

“What about me?” Stephanie asked.

“What about you?” Hypnos responded, “These other women brought down mystical barriers and fought against deadly adversaries in an effort to free me from captivity. The two warrior-women fought a murderous jötunn and killed it in fierce combat. What have you done that merits reward?”

Stephanie stuffed one hand in her pocket and pointed the other one in Faith’s direction, “I showed your warrior women how to work the secret passages in this house and led them to the secret prison cell where you were locked up. That’s worth something, isn’t it?”

Stephanie, Buffy, Faith and I all stared at Hypnos to see what his reaction would be. For a few seconds, he seemed uncertain how to respond. And then he laughed.

And laughed, and laughed, and then laughed some more. He seemed quite amused, and it took him several minutes to get his laughter under control.

“Very well, Stephanie King,” Hypnos finally said, a mirthful smile still on his face, “What would you desire for your heroic actions in assisting Faith Lehane?”

Stephanie got a look on her face and seemed indecisive. I don’t think she was expecting Hypnos to give her anything. She probably just wanted to argue with him about how valuable her contribution was to the rescue effort. She struck me as the type that enjoyed engaging in verbal battles. She might even have been disappointed that Hypnos surrendered to her argument so easily.

“Um, safe passage home?” Stephanie suggested.

“Safe passage home?” Hypnos asked.

Stephanie nodded in agreement and elaborated, “The streets of Cleveland are a lot more dangerous than most people think. Nathan and his creepy father might be dead, but this town is still full of nasty things lurking in the dark. Some sort of bodyguard or something to get me home safe would make me feel a lot better.”

“Of course,” Hypnos said, still smiling that mirthful smile of his, “You shall have your safe passage home.”

So saying, he raised his right hand and touched his index finger to Faith’s forehead. Faith immediately passed out and fall backwards, falling flat onto Nathan Blackpool’s bed. Then he raised his index finger to Stephanie’s forehead. She also passed out, but when she collapsed, she missed the bed entirely and ended up on the bedroom floor.

“What the hell?” Buffy exclaimed and picked up the battle that Faith had dropped. She brandished it, as if she were about to chop Hypnos’s head from his shoulders.

“I have done no injury to the writer of stories or to the slayer or vampires,” Hypnos explained calmly to Buffy, “I have merely placed them both into a deep slumber. The two of them shall share a dream of heated sex, libidinous passion and mutual adoration. When the two of them awake, Stephanie shall have deep feelings of love, sexual attraction and admiration for Faith. Faith shall have feelings of true love and sexual attraction for Stephanie. She shall feel a strong urge to protect Stephanie from the many threats that can be found on the streets of Cleveland.”

I looked down at Stephanie’s sleeping form, also at Faith. They were both breathing, and looked healthy, but I somehow felt it was wrong the way Hypnos was casually manipulating them both.

“You can’t just go around manipulating people like that,” I protested, “I mean, forcing people to love each other is-.”

Hypnos interrupted me in mid-sentence and said, “Faith Lehane has never been in a loving relationship with another person before. Neither has Stephanie King. They had both experienced troubled childhoods and have great difficulty in trusting others. Without my intervention, neither of these women would have ever been able to experience an affectionate, romantic, trusting relationship. By manipulating them, I am actually doing them both a great favor.”

“Well, yeah, but…”

And I tried to think of a counter-argument, but I really couldn’t come up with anything. Faith had gone over to the dark side, and Hypnos had already manipulated her for the better by bringing her back to the side of the good guys. Maybe manipulating Faith into a relationship with Stephanie was a good idea.

“Well, okay, I guess that could work out for the best,” I said, finally giving up and surrendering to his argument.

“I’m still not convinced,” Buffy said, her knuckles white as she retained a tight grip on her battle axe, “I mean, you’re playing God here. Maybe Faith should be allowed to make her own decisions. You’re just jamming Faith and Stephanie together like two plastic Barbie dolls that you bought from Toys R us. I think that maybe you should wake Faith up and ask her…”

That was as far as Buffy got. Hypnos made a barely noticeable gesture with his hand and suddenly Buffy was passed out on the floor too.

“Hey,” I protested indignantly, “That was my best friend! And I don’t care how noble your intentions are, you can’t just go around pointing your fingers at my friends and making them…”

And that’s about as far as I got.

* * * * * * * * * *

“God, Willow! What are you wearing?” I heard an admonishing female voice snap at me. I turned around and realized it was Cordelia.

Wait. Cordelia?

I was standing by my locker in Sunnydale high school. I realized it must be a school day. Harmony was standing right behind Cordelia. Cordelia belonged to a clique of cool kids, at the high school, but they rarely ever talked to me. Why was Cordelia talking to me now?

Oh, right. She was asking about my clothes.

I looked down and saw that I was wearing a white, cotton shirt that buttoned down the front, a plaid skirt and a plaid vest that also buttoned down the front. I was also wearing a pair of red and white sneakers.

“Um, clothes, I think,” I responded to Cordelia’s question, “I’m at school, so I gotta wear clothes. There are rules that say I have to. I think that’s in the student handbook.”

“Oh, no,” Cordelia snapped at me, “We both have Ms. Murray for English literature, and I can’t be seen in the same classroom with you, while you’re dressed like that! You look like you were dressed by a blind man!”

“A blind man with bad taste,” Harmony added, helpfully.

“You’re a walking fashion disaster, and you’re not going to ruin my perfect day, by going into Ms. Murray’s classroom dressed like that. Come on, you gotta lose those clothes.”

Cordelia and Harmony then proceeded to undress me. Cordelia began by unbuttoning my vest, while Harmony knelt down at my feet and unlaced my sneakers to she could take them off my feet.

“Wait,” I exclaimed, beginning to panic, “I can’t be naked in school! There are rules! Rules against nudity! Remember the student handbook? At least let me keep my panties!”

When Cordelia got down to my panties, she gave me a disapproving glance and said, “Seriously? White cotton panties?”

“With polka dots?” Harmony said accusingly.

“They’ll have to come off,” Cordelia insisted.

Cordelia hooked her fingers into the waistband of my panties and yanked them down. I tried to grab for Cordelia’s wrists, but Harmony grabbed my arms and forced them behind my back. Suddenly I was stark naked in the halls of Sunnydale high school with dozens of students staring at my exposed breasts and other naughty bits. To my horror, I realized I didn’t even have any pubic hair to help conceal my nether lips. When did I shave off all my pubic hair? I couldn’t remember doing that. And yet, there was my pubis, shaved completely smooth.

“Back off, Harmony,” I heard a strong, confident female voice say, and suddenly Buffy was there. She grabbed Harmony, pulled her away from me, and tossed her a good thirty feet down the school hallway. Students reflexively jumped back so Harmony wouldn’t slam into them, as she rocketed down the corridor.

“You can’t bully Willow anymore, Cordy,” Buffy snapped at Cordelia, “She’s my girlfriend now. That means I’m always going to be here to protect her.”

I got a lump in my throat and my heart swelled with pride. My glorious, heroic Buffy was here to save the day. She was fearless and valiant and larger than life. God, I loved her.

“I wasn’t bullying her,” Cordelia protested, “I was just being a fashion consultant for her! Jeez!”

“Yeah, well, Willow doesn’t need you to be her fashion consultant,” Buffy said defiantly, “She’s got me now,”

And suddenly Buffy was holding a large American flag. I had no idea where she pulled it from. She didn’t have it with her when she tossed Harmony down the hall. It was like she just produced it from thin air. 

I didn’t really care about the flag’s origins though. I had been naked and embarrassed, and Buffy wrapped the flag around me like a bath towel. It covered my nudity from my breasts all the way down to mid-thigh. I felt respectable again…and kind of patriotic.

And then; without warning or explanation; the flag transformed. Instead of wearing a flag, I was wearing flag-blue panties with dozens of white stars worked into the fabric. I was also wearing a red bustier, with an American eagle emblazoned across the front. 

I also had stylish, high-heeled leather boots on my feet. They were both a vibrant red color, with a white racing stripe strategically placed across the front of each.

“Oh, you’re totally making that outfit work. Now you looked better-dressed than I do,” Cordelia complained, “That’s so unfair!”

Suddenly, Buffy, Cordelia and I were no longer in the school hallway. We were in Principal Snyder’s office.

“Congratulations, Rosenberg,” Principal Snyder said sourly, looking downtrodden and defeated, “Because of your extraordinary new outfit, the California State Board of Education has decided to give you a promotion. You’re the principal now. Here are the keys to your new office.”

Snyder offered up a metal ring of keys and I took them from his hand. He scowled at me and then turned his back and shuffled out of the office, grumbling something about being demoted. I think he said he was now going to be the school’s lunchroom monitor.

“Congratulations young lady,” said a smartly-dressed man with a seriously-receding hairline, and intelligent-looking eyes. I was going to ask him his name, but suddenly I recognized him. It was Richard Riley, the U.S. Secretary of Education.

“Thanks, Mister Riley,” I said, kind of shocked that a high-ranking official in the federal government would travel all the way to Sunnydale just to congratulate me on my promotion to school principal.

While I was pondering that, a small, bespectacled, innocuous-looking bald man in a tweed suit came up to me, holding a platter with wedges of different types of cheese on display. He smiled at me disarmingly and said, “As Sunnydale High’s new principal, you have the honor of choosing the official school cheese. Which do you prefer? Cheddar, feta, mozzarella, pepper-jack, provolone, Red Leicester or Red Windsor?”

I had no idea Sunnydale High School even had an official cheese, however the bald, smiling man seemed friendly and harmless enough. I chose the provolone cheese. And the bald man shook my hand, and went on his merry way, presumably to make the official announcement about the school’s new official cheese.

And suddenly Giles was there. He wanted to shake my hand too.

“Excellent work, Willow,” he said as he pumped my hand enthusiastically, “I’ve always had faith in you. You’ve always been a very bright young woman with innovative ideas.”

“Um, thanks,” I said, sounding uncertain. In the back of my mind, I was feeling some serious doubts about this. Was this normally the way that people got promoted to be the principal of a high school?

“I’ve just recently received a promotion myself,” Giles said proudly, “I’m the new director of the Secret Service.”

“Really?” I asked, stunned that Giles could go from school librarian to Secret Service director. Wasn’t that a little unusual? But Giles proudly held up his new government ID with his name, photo and his new government title. It said Rupert Giles, Director of the United States Secret Service, so I guess everything was legit.

And then turning to Buffy, Giles said, “Oh, and Buffy, I’d like you to be deputy director. You have a long history of keeping people safe, and there’s nobody I’d like more to be my second in command.”

Giles sounded really enthusiastic, but Buffy turned him down.

“Sorry, Giles,” she said, “I’m flattered, really, but Willow just got her promotion, so I have to stay here and consummate the promotion by having sex with her on this desk.”

“Yes, I see,” said Giles uneasily, “But after the obligatory sex scene..”

Buffy ignored Giles’s question and ordered him out of my office. She also threw out Cordelia, Secretary of Education Riley, the cheese guy and about two-dozen teachers and faculty members, that I hadn’t noticed before. My parents were also standing around in the back, hidden behind school teachers and faculty members. They got thrown out too.

When Buffy and I were alone in my new office, Buffy locked the door and she turned to face me. “Ugh, I thought they would never leave,” she exclaimed.

Suddenly, I noticed that Buffy’s clothes had changed. She was wearing a black, leather corset that made her waist look at least two inches smaller and her boobs at least five-inches bigger. And the only other items of clothing she had on were some very sexy, black-leather boots and a delicious-looking pair of black, bikini-panties.

“Get on the desk,” Buffy ordered me, “I’ve been wanting to do naughty things to you all day, and I’m not gonna wait any longer.”

There were about a dozen questions running through my head, but I ignored all of them, and just obeyed Buffy’s orders. I crawled onto the desk, and then I lied down, waiting for Buffy to do scandalous things to me.

“Tits up,” Buffy said, smacking my bottom hard enough to make it sting, “And make sure you spread your legs for me.”

I flipped over and obediently spread my legs wide. I had a second or two to think that I should probably take off my clothes to give Buffy greater access to my naughty parts. But the instant that that thought entered my head, my clothes mysteriously disappeared.

Lying naked on my new desk, I looked up at the ceiling and said, “There’s something not right about this.”

“Hush,” Buffy commanded as she towered over my naked, recumbent form, “Just close your eyes and enjoy the heavenly rewards that my powerful, tireless tongue can bring.”

Buffy’s voice was sexy and intoxicating. I just closed my eyes and let her enchanting voice roll over me and caress my naked body like a tidal wave. The skin of my inner thighs and pubic lips suddenly felt hypersensitive as I anticipated the sweet, euphoric kiss of Buffy’s lips and the blissful contact of her pink, talented tongue.

With my eyes still closed, I felt the barest contact of fingertips on the bare flesh of my widespread inner thighs, and a hot thrum of energies spread across my entire body. I trembled and let out a little gasp.

“Well, you’re awfully responsive,” Buffy observed playfully, “I was gonna try and draw this out over the course of several hours, but it looks like you’re almost on the verge of orgasm already.”

She was right, my skin was hot and feverish. I had trouble breathing, and I could feel a throbbing energy in my breasts and my nipples, or maybe that was my heartbeat I was feeling. At any rate, I was responsive as hell, and I desperately wanted Buffy to touch me.

Buffy’s hand slid gently up and down my thighs, eliciting moans from my lips. Her hands were slow and patient, even though I wanted her to be quick and brutal. I wanted her to thrust her tongue inside of me and her fingers to rub my swollen clit vigorously and without mercy, but Buffy was setting the pace, not me.

I gasped and made soft, feminine vowel sounds when I felt Buffy’s hand finally touch me between my legs and began to caress my needy sex.

“God, Will, you’re soaking wet,” Buffy playfully admonished me.

“Oooooaahhh,” I sort of moaned inarticulately and willed Buffy to continue doing what she was doing.

Almost as if she was reading my mind, Buffy found my needy clitoris and began to rub it in a way that made me make more vowel sounds.

The way Buffy rubbed my poor clit sent a flood of pleasurable sensations through my lower body, and the sensations built up in strength, and spread. Soon I found my chest filled with the same intense sensations, making my upper body uncomfortably hot and my nipples so hard and swollen that they ached.

“Buffy, I can’t last several hours,” I complained, my voice weak and strained, “You have to bring me to climax right now. Please? The waiting is torture.”

“Maybe I’m into torture,” Buffy said, her voice now sounding more stern, and authoritarian, “Maybe I’m one of those types who likes being in control and likes my lovers to be helpless.”

Her words were stern, but finally Buffy penetrated my sex and thrust two fingers inside of me. I let out a gasp, and my whole body shuddered. I began to pant uncontrollably, and then suddenly my labia were stretched wide as Buffy inserted a third finger and really took possession of my vulnerable sex.

“Ooooh,” I cooed, “Please, Buffy, please.”

Buffy returned to rubbing my clit while her fingers impaled my vagina. I was absolutely certain that Buffy’s ministrations would drive me over the edge within a split-second, yet somehow Buffy managed to always keep my coveted orgasm just barely out of reach.

Reflexively, my legs tried to close, but suddenly I realized that I was tied down. My legs were bound far apart, and my wrists were bound apart and far above my head.

I opened my eyes and stared straight up at Buffy. She had an amused smirk on her face and she said, “Sorry, Will. I’ve got plans for your body today, and I can’t have you taking any actions that upset things.”

I struggled against the bounds that held down my wrists and ankles, but they were strong and tight. No matter how much I struggled, I wasn’t going anywhere. My pussy was exposed, wide open, vulnerable and there wasn’t anything I could do to defend it.

“Just lay back and relax, Will,” Buffy advised me in a soothing tone of voice, “I’m in control now and I’ll do whatever I want to that adorable naked body of yours. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, so you might as well try to enjoy it.”

I sighed and closed my eyes again. Actually, I was enjoying it, but I wanted Buffy to hurry up and finish! A girl could only wait so long until the anticipation drove her out of her mind! When was I going to get my anticipated climax? 

My helplessly-bound and naked body was shaking and in the grip of a libidinous fever. I desperately wanted Buffy to make me come, but she teasingly rubbed my clit and probed my sex in such a way that I was always on the edge of orgasm, but somehow never quite reaching it.

My body was trembling and throbbing and I could feel sweat breaking out on my temples, my chest, and pretty much most of my body. I whimpered and opened my eyes, giving Buffy a pleading look, but she shook her head as if to tell me that I wouldn’t be getting any mercy any time soon.

“Taste,” Buffy said as she held up three of her fingers up and positioned them near my face. I opened my mouth wide and allowed Buffy to thrust her fingers deep inside of me, so I could taste my own juices. There was barely any taste at all. My sexual juices were kind of bland. I wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“Now, I’ll taste you,” Buffy said, and she leaned across my bound naked body, merged her lips with mine and kissed me with a fierce intensity. She thrust her tongue into my mouth and probed every nook and cranny, as if she were mapping its interior.

“You taste good,” Buffy said when she finally came up for air, “I think I should go back for a larger sample of those delicious juices.”

Next thing I knew, Buffy was no longer lying on top of me. Instead she was standing at the edge of my desk, bent over at the waist with her face mere inches from my exposed sex. I knew exactly what she was planning to do. I wanted her to do it, I needed her to do it, and yet somehow, I was unprepared for the intensity of the moment when it finally came.

“Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh,” I screamed as Buffy’s mouth formed a seal around my exposed, defenseless sex and her tongue probed deep inside of me. Her tongue seemed to know exactly which areas of my vagina to target to elicit the most intense responses. I thrashed and writhed in response, but being bound wide-open the way I was, I was very limited in how much thrashing I could do.

I trembled and shook and helplessly struggled against my bonds as my insides convulsed and throbbed and went into uncontrollable spasms. I whimpered helplessly and cried out like a virgin sacrifice being impaled. The orgasm bursting out of my innocent sex was the most violent of my young life. I could feel the rapid beat of my heart in my throat and my body heated to a fever pitch as my sex erupted into some sort of orgasmic pleasure I wouldn’t have thought possible.

“Huhhhh-Aaahhhhhhhhhhhhh,” I screamed inarticulately as my whole body exploded in wanton sexual release. When the moment of climax came, it seemed like an army of orgasm occurring all at about the same time. And then when the orgasm subsided, I lay there panting and trembling as I felt the effects of several throbbing, mini-orgasms that followed.

“Oh God, oh God, Oh God,” I gasped over and over again as my body tried to recover from the most powerful orgasm of my young life.

“Buffy, please untie me,” I begged, “I really desperately need to be held after that.”

And; much to my relief; Buffy untied me, scooped up my limp, drained, naked body from my desk and she held me close, while I panted and gasped and tried to recover.


	10. Faith begins her new life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buffy and Willow return to Sunnydale. Faith moves in with her new girlfriend.

I woke up on the floor.

It took me a few seconds to reorient myself. I had just awoken from an erotic dream, and my mind was reluctant to let go of it. Once I’m fully awake I usually forget the content of my dreams, and I really didn’t want to forget this one. It was beautiful and shamelessly erotic in a way that….

Oh, crap. As I awkwardly sat up, I noticed that Buffy and Stephanie were still passed out on the floor. I should probably make and attempt to wake them up.

My very scientific attempt at waking Buffy from her slumber involved me taking Buffy’s face in my hands, shaking it from side to side and saying, “Wake up! Wake up! Hey, Buffy!”

Much to my disappointment, this did not work.

I tried a similar tactic on Stephanie, with similar results. Whatever Hypnos had done to make Buffy, Faith and Stephanie fall asleep was probably beyond my abilities to counter, but I woke up all on my own. Maybe the others would do the same.

I decided that I would wait fifteen minutes and see if the others woke up. If that didn’t work, I’d have a five-star panic attack. If none of that yielded any positive results, I’m not sure what I was gonna do.

I sat on the bed, gave Faith a really disapproving look, and yelled, “Wake up!”

Much to my disappointment, that had no effect whatsoever.

In my frustration, I grabbed a pillow off the bed and threw it at the far wall as hard as I could.

“Gyaaahh!”

The pillow did absolutely zero damage when it hit the far wall, and I still didn’t feel any better. I looked around for something else to throw, and realized that there was a book on the bed. I picked it up and realized that it was a spell-book.

It was written in Latin, but I’ve studied Latin, and I have a 146 IQ. If I get serious about learning something, I’m going to master it. It’s just a matter of time. Learning Latin was no big deal for somebody like me.

The first half of the book was full of effusive praise for somebody named Byrhtnoth. Apparently Byrhtnoth was some sort of wizard, and this book was written by one of his biggest fans.

The second half of the book dealt with mystic barriers and shielding spells. I decided I could do with some of that. I slipped the book into my bookbag, and resolved to study the book when I got back to Sunnydale.

“You guys slept through the most exciting part of the slumber party,” I informed Buffy, Faith and Stephanie. They didn’t seem to be all that impressed.

 

“If you guys don’t wake up soon,” I informed the three sleeping beauties, “I’m going to eat all the Ben and Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Ice Cream, and you guys won’t get any.”

And then; much to my surprise; Faith moaned and squirmed around a little bit in her sleep. I took a step closer, and leaned in towards Faith and she tentatively opened her eyes. 

“Faith, are you okay?” 

She looked okay, but when a centuries-old, immortal being puts a spell on a teenage girl, there’s no telling what sort of problems may follow. Caution was a good idea.

“Five by five,” Faith said sleepily, as she groggily began to move and show signs of life, “Where’s Stephanie?”

As if on cue, Stephanie began to stir, I heard her yawn and then she murmured, “Did somebody say something about Ben and Jerry’s?”

Within seconds, all four of us were awake.

“Are we still in Cleveland?” Buffy asked.

“Where else would we be?” Stephanie asked.

We took stock and decided that yes, we were still in Cleveland. We had rescued an ancient immortal being named Hypnos, and now he had disappeared without telling us where he was going. He had promised to come back and do just one favor for Buffy and I, if we ever called on him, but we weren’t ready to do that just yet. He had already done a favor for Faith, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t remember what it was

“We should get Stephanie home,” Faith suggested, “There’s wackos out there just waiting for a for a chance to get their claws into a sweet young thing like her. I don’t like the idea of her out on the streets by herself.”

“The streets of Cleveland?” Buffy asked.

“Cleveland is a lot more dangerous than those assholes at City Hall would like you to think,” Stephanie said, “After the sun goes down, we’ve got vampires, sonnefluch demons, shadowers, haunters and succubi.”

“Suck you what?” Faith asked.

“Succubi,” Stephanie replied, “They’re shape shifters. They come out at night and they look all hot and sexy. They trick you into having sex with them.”

“Wait, sex demons that look hot, and want to get you into the sack? That doesn’t sound so bad. Where do they hang out?”

Stephanie shook her head, strongly indicating with her body language that getting into bed with a succubus was a really bad idea. “Succubi drain off a little bit of your life force every time you have sex with them. Eventually sex with a succubus will kill you, but sex with them is incredibly awesome and incredibly addictive, and most people will keep coming back for more even if they know it's killing them.”

“Not the worst way to die,” Faith muttered as Stephanie led us through another secret passage and we made our way to the front of the house.

Unfortunately, the Cleveland Police were out on Franklin Boulevard. I saw three squad cars, at least six uniformed police officers and two guys in plainclothes that were probably detectives. The jötunn that Buffy and Faith had killed was lying out on the street, and the police had marked off the area with the massive corpse as a crime scene. Yellow and black tape was used to block off a large section of the street. Sadly, Faith’s rental car was also inside the marked-off area.

“Oh, that doesn’t look good,” opined Buffy.

We closed the door without ever actually setting foot outside the house. “So, what do we do now?” I asked.

“This house has another secret passage that leads you out to an area near a high school on West 30th Street,” Stephanie suggested, “At this time of night, it should be deserted.”

I didn’t have any better ideas. Neither did Buffy or Faith, so we let Stephanie lead us through another secret passage, and after a long trek underground, we ended up standing in a snow-covered lot near Lincoln-West High School.

From West 30th Street, the four of us trudged through the snow, and ended up at Stephanie’s small, modest home on Vine Court. Unfortunately, Stephanie didn’t have her housekeys with her. 

“I had my keys on me when those creeps kidnapped me,” Stephanie complained, “But who knows what they did with them, after they grabbed me. They might still be back at the creepy house of Franklin Boulevard…or they might have tossed ‘em in the trash. I’ve got no way of knowing.”

Faith easily forced the forced the door open, trashing the doorjamb in the process. I felt bad about the damage to Stephanie’s humble home, but at least she wasn’t the prisoner of two sex-offending wizards anymore.  
Stephanie turned on some lights, went to the thermostat, turned on the heat, and then disappeared into her bedroom and changed her clothes. When she returned, she was wearing some tight jeans that hugged her curves in a very flattering way, and a black t-shirt with white lettering that said, “Please do not annoy the writer. She may put you in a book and kill you.”

“I’ve never been rescued by a team of supernatural heroes before,” Stephanie said, as she went through the process of turning on even more lights, “What’s the normal protocol here? Am I supposed to pay you, or something?”

“It doesn’t really work that way,” I explained, “The Scoobies help people because we can. We never ask people for money.”

“I’ll tell ya what,” Faith said on the heels of that, “I haven’t had anything to eat today except for a candy bar and a can of soda. Have you got anything to eat in the place? I’m starving. Feed me, and we’ll call it even.”

Stephanie smiled enigmatically at that and said, “I haven’t been home in weeks. Most of the food in the house will have gone bad by now.”

Stephanie opened up the door to her refrigerator and it didn’t look good. Most of her food had indeed gone bad. Foods like onions, bananas and celery were the worst. They had rotted from the inside out, and had very nearly turned to toxic sludge.

I helped Stephanie throw the spoiled food into the trash, and we discovered that the only salvageable food in the house was a half-empty jar of pickles, a stick of butter, a container of powdered lemonade mix and a mostly empty jar of Folgers instant coffee.

“I could order some pizza,” Stephanie offered, “It’s not exactly cuisine, but it’ll fill you up.”

I could hear Faith’s stomach audibly gurgle and growl at Stephanie’s suggestion, and suddenly everyone in Stephanie’s kitchen was in agreement. Pizza was the perfect way to wrap up our Cleveland rescue mission.

I had money on me, and I offered to pay for our meal, but Stephanie refused. Since Buffy, Faith and I had just rescued her from a duo of creepy, perverted wizards and their army of supernatural super-wolves, she insisted that the least she could do is feed us.

“At the very least, you guys have earned a free meal,” she firmly maintained, “So your money is no good here. The pizza is on me.” 

Stephanie’s wallet was in a drawer in her bedroom. Luckily, she didn’t have it on her when she got kidnapped. Losing her cash would have been bad enough, but losing her credit cards, and driver’s   
license would have been worse. Getting all that stuff replaced would have been a nightmare.

Stephanie was a huge carnivore when it came to pizza, and she ordered the largest size pizza they offered at Augie’s Pizza, and told them to top it with double-pepperoni, meatball, sausage and bacon.

“You’re an awfully skinny girl,” Faith observed, after the pizza arrived, “I’m guessing you don’t eat like this very much.”

Stephanie held a slice of pizza up to her mouth and took a big bite of it. The blissful look on her face as she chewed was almost sexual in its intensity. I felt kind of like a voyeur, watching her.

Stephanie finally swallowed, made a sound of exquisite contentment and said, “During the time those bastard-sons-of-of-bitches had me prisoner they didn’t feed me much. Mostly bananas and coffee…sometimes an apple. It’s about time I was allowed to have some real food!”

“I heard that,” Faith replied whole-heartedly, and she raised a slice to her own mouth.

I don’t normally eat pizza, and when I do it doesn’t normally have such a multitude of toppings, but I had to admit, the pizza Stephanie had ordered, tasted great. Of course, nobody enjoyed it as much as Stephanie (the girl moaned in orgasmic-y sounding ecstasy every time she took a bite), but we all thought it was yummy. Faith ate three slices…and these were huge slices. One slice was enough to fill me up, so three slices…whoa!!

Now, a girl tends to get greasy eating pizza, and at one point, Stephanie got a roll of paper towels and proceeded to wipe grease off of Faith’s face and hands. Now, Faith is kind of cagey and can get physically violent when people touch her without warning. Faith’s body language got defensive and she adopted a fighting posture when Stephanie started to wipe Faith’s face down. 

“Stephanie, don’t,” I started to say, and it looked like Faith was about to respond to Stephanie’s innocent actions with a head-butt.

And; at the last second; Faith’s body language went from defensive to passionate, and she pulled Stephanie forward and leaned in for a kiss.

Stephanie stiffened up at first; and looked like she was going to pull away; but within seconds she relaxed and melted into the kiss, like she and Faith were longtime lovers who had done this hundreds of times.

“Wow,” Stephanie said, when they finally broke from the kiss.

“Yeah,” Faith said, apparently agreeing with Stephanie’s sentiment.

And then Stephanie won the award for the most-unromantic-thing-you-can-say-after-a-kiss, by commenting, “Your tongue tastes like pizza.”

Faith laughed at that. It was a girly sort of laugh, but it was contagious, and soon Stephanie and Buffy were laughing too. Eventually I joined in, not that it was all that funny, but somehow the four of us were having a moment. We were bonding. Nobody was currently trying to kill us. Stephanie was safe in her home. All four of us were happy, our bellies were full, we were healthy, contented and none of us had a single worry in the world.

“So, who are you guys?” Stephanie asked, “I know you said that you’re the Scoobies, but what does that even mean?”

“Buffy and Faith are both slayers,” I explained, “I’m a witch, and we’ve got a guy back in California, who’s sort of our leader. He knows things about vampires and demons and magic and stuff. He’s usually the one that tells what the most serious threats are, where to find them and how to stop them.”

“Okay,” Stephanie said dubiously, “And what’s a slayer?”

Buffy, Faith and I all got contemplative looks on our faces. Explaining the complex truth about vampire slayers to a normal civilian was kind of tricky.

“Okay, it’s like this,” Buffy finally responded, “Slayers are like a vampire’s worst nightmare. Slayers are super-strong and have super-human reflexes, and we usually have somebody around that tells us all the tricks, and the most effective ways to kill vampires. We’re trained in how to use all kinds of weapons, crossbows, longbows, swords, throwing daggers, battle-axes.”

“And wooden stakes,” Faith volunteered, “Vamps hate getting stabbed with wooden stakes.”

“Stab a vampire in the heart with a wooden stake, Buffy elaborated, “And it immediately turns to dust.”

“So, are you guys recruiting?” Stephanie asked, “If I wanted to become a slayer, is there like an application process?”

Faith placed a hand gently on Stephanie’s shoulder and said, “Sorry, Steph. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Being a slayer is a mystical thing,” I explained, “One slayer has to die before another slayer gets her powers, and it’s always completely random.”

“The next slayer might be some girl in India,” Buffy suggested.

“Or South Africa,” Faith offered.

“There’s no way to control it,” I said, “When a new slayer is called, they could be from anywhere in the world.”

“But you’re a witch,” Stephanie gently protested, “You do spells, right? I mean, you said it was a mystic thing. Witches are all about mystic things, right?”

“Witches can’t control when and where the next slayer shows up,” I said.

And even as I said that, I wondered why can’t witches control when and where the next slayer shows up? The very existence of slayers came about due to a powerful magic spell. What if a witch cast an equally powerful magic spell, in an effort to choose the next slayer? I mean…how hard could it be?

 

“There won’t be another new slayer until I die,” Faith told Stephanie, “And I don’t plan on dying anytime soon. So, even if Red could pick who is gonna be the next slayer, it’d be a long time before she got to pick one. I’m very nearly unkillable.”

“So, you’re like super-sexy, vampires fear you, and you’re very nearly unkillable,” Stephanie said, “You might just be the perfect roommate.”

Stephanie had an extraordinarily amicable and intimate look on her face as she said this to Faith. She and Faith had just met a few hours ago, but it was pretty obvious that she had already developed a strong emotional bond to our junior slayer. Then she reached for Faith’s hips, shoved her fingers into the back pockets of Faith’s tight jeans and tried to pull Faith closer to her.

In reaction, Faith placed her hands on Stephanie’s hips and said, “Steph, are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Well, think about it,” Stephanie said, “I’d be a lot safer with a slayer as a roommate. Vampires would be afraid of you, and if I ever got kidnapped, I probably wouldn’t have to wait three or four weeks to get rescued. And I’m pretty sure you find me attractive. Or, am I wrong about that?”

“No, you’re not wrong,” Faith admitted, “You’re a babe. You’re eye-catching, but if I move in with you, what’s it gonna be like? You got loud neighbors that play the drums at three a.m.? Am I gonna have to sleep on the couch? You have an irrational ex-boyfriend who’s gonna show up here one night all drunk and murder-y? Do you owe thousands of dollars to a local loan shark? I gotta know about things like this before I move in with you.”

Stephanie smiled and shook her head in negation.

“No loud neighbors,” she said, “I’ve never dated any boys, so no irrational ex-boyfriends, I’ve never borrowed any money from any loan sharks, my finances look good, I make pretty good money from my writing, you see. I’m a published author with short stories in Asimov’s Science Fiction, Erotic Periodic, Science Fiction Magazine, Startling Stories and Weird Tales. Oh, and I’ve got a queen-size bed that’s easily big enough for two adults to sleep in without ever getting in each other’s way.”

 

“Really now?” Faith asked.

Stephanie nodded her head in agreement, and then Faith asked if she could see this queen-size bed.

The path to Stephanie’s bedroom led through the living room, and that gave Faith a chance to notice Stephanie’s PlayStation game-playing system.

“You got any good games for this?” Faith asked, showing the sort of obvious enthusiasm that marked her as a gamer-girl.

“I’ve got Parasite Eve,” Stephanie said, pulling the game disc up off a pile of other game discs, “It has the absolute most kick-ass graphics of any game currently on the market.”

“Parasite Eve, huh?” Faith asked, carefully examining the words and images on the game-disc case.

“I thought you wanted to see my queen-size bed,” Stephanie said, obviously amused at Faith’s apparent interest in her PlayStation game. I had never realized before that Faith was so intensely into computer games. She had never mentioned her interest in computer games back when she lived in Sunnydale.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Faith said, setting the game disc back on the pile.

Apparently, Faith loved Stephanie’s queen-size bed. In a move that totally took me by surprise, Faith took off her shoes, got up on the bed and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. Faith is nineteen years old. She’s also a legal adult who’s done a lot, and seen a lot, but watching her bounce up and down on the bed, I could almost believe she was a ten-year old child.

“This bed brand new?” Faith asked, “It seems really resilient.”

“I bought it about ten or eleven months ago,” Stephanie replied, “But a good mattress can last ten or twenty years.”

“So, almost brand new,” Faith said.

“Yeah,” Stephanie said.

“I’ve never slept in a bed that was almost brand new,” Faith said, sounding playful and mischievous, “Wanna take it for a test-drive?”

“Well, it’s a bit early for bed,” Stephanie said, “But if I’m gonna sell you becoming my roommate, maybe I could go to bed now and take you for a test-drive on my queen-size mattress.”

At this point Stephanie took of her shoes and began to take off her socks.

Now, my IQ is twenty-two points higher than Buffy’s, nevertheless sometimes Buffy figures stuff out quicker than I do.

“Okay, you guys take that bed for a test-drive,” Buffy said, “Will and I need to be getting back to Sunnydale. We’re gonna see if we can’t grab a cab back to the airport.”

“What? Now?” I asked, “What’s the rush? I don’t have any classes until Thursday.”

Then Buffy leaned in intimately close and whispered in my ear, “I think we should give them some privacy. They’re probably going to be at it all night.”

“They’re just going to be sleeping,” I whispered back to Buffy, and then Faith unzipped her jeans and began to push the tight denim material down her shapely hips. That’s when it hit me, it was unlikely Faith or Stephanie would be getting any sleep anytime soon.

“Right,” I finally said, loud enough for Faith and Stephanie to hear, “Buffy and I should be getting back to Sunnydale. You two have fun test-driving the bed.”

I closed the door to Stephanie’s bedroom, and Buffy and I got out before things got even more uncomfortable.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When we several blocks away from Stephanie’s house, I said, “Faith and Stephanie. I never would have put those two together. I wouldn’t have guessed the two of them would be compatible.”

“So, you didn’t think that a strong, athletic, self-confident vampire-slayer could ever be compatible with a smart, studious girl that sometimes gets captured by supernatural evil-doers?”

“Right.”

Buffy just got a smug look on her face, and it took me a few seconds to realize that she had laid a verbal trap for me, and that I had walked right into it.

“Of course, sometimes opposites attract,” I added quickly, “And the strong, athletic types and the smart, studious types each bring something to the table that could help out the other out. And by pooling their strengths, they might be more functional as a couple, than they would be all on their own.”

“Nice save, Will,” Buffy said, giving me a playful smile.

We never did find a cab, but we found a bus that took us to the airport.

Sitting in the airport lobby, waiting for permission to board our flight, seemed boring at first, but that changed after about twenty minutes.

At one point, I was sitting in one of those airport chairs, and suddenly I saw Faith and Stephanie, stark naked. Both Faith and Stephanie had their hair pinned back, so I had an excellent view of both their faces as they engaged in hot, passionate, steamy mouth-on-mouth action with each other.

I liked kissing, but I had no idea that it could look so erotic. Faith looked like she was making impassioned love to Stephanie’s mouth. It was so seductively hypnotic, I almost forgot that it wasn’t possible for me to be seeing what I was seeing.

“Buffy, I think something’s wrong,” I said, grabbing the sleeve to Buffy’s winter jacket and gently tugging on it.

“By wrong, do you mean Faith and Stephanie being bare-assed naked in the airport lobby?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah,” I replied, “That kind of something wrong.”

And then, to make matters even more confusing, everyone else in the airport lobby was behaving as if it was totally normal for two teenagers to be stark naked in public, and playing tonsil hockey.

“I think we’re the only ones who can see them,” Buffy opined, “A middle-aged man wife a wife and three kids just walked past them, and none of them even blinked.”

Buffy was right. Stewardesses and pilots in their smart-looking uniforms walked right past them, without even slowing down. Middle-aged women and teenage boys walked past the erotic sight, and seemed oblivious to the fervid sensuality of it all. 

“What does it mean?” Buffy asked me, “Wil, you wear the smarty-pants in the family. It’s your job to explain stuff like this.”

Faith and Stephanie were making erotic moaning sounds that made it difficult for me to think, and then Faith started rubbing her perfectly-shaped, round breasts against Stephanie’s bare breasts, and my cognitive abilities just sort of seemed to slip away.

“If they could exhibit this at the Bronze,” I said softly, “They’d get decuple the business.”

“Focus, Will,” Buffy snapped at me, “This isn’t normal behavior. What’s causing it?”

“Um, well, it’s probably magic of some kind?” I offered.

“Brilliant,” Buffy said sarcastically, “Is it a threat? Is Faith in danger? Am I going to have to slay something in the very near future?”

I sighed and screwed my eyes tightly shut. I was supposed to be the genius. I was supposed to be the know-it-all. I had the 146 IQ, however, I had absolutely no idea why Buffy and I were seeing visions of Faith and Stephanie, naked and engaged in lesbian sex in the very public lobby of Cleveland Hopkins International Airport.

And then I opened my eyes.

My eyes were downcast, which was fortunate, as I found a very vital clue while looking down. The tattoo on my hand was glowing with an esoteric sort of light. It was sort of blood-red, and then a gemstone red, and then a rust-like color, and then black, and then blood-red again.

“The tattoo,” I exclaimed to Buffy, holding my right hand up, with my palm facing Buffy, “Faith has one just like it on the palm of her hand! You have one too!”

“Yeah, so?” Buffy asked, and then she looked at the palm of her hand and noticed that her tattoo was glowing as well.

“When we did the spell with the Apertor ex foribus,” I explained excitedly to Buffy, “We all joined hands and you and Faith shared some of your life-force with mine to help power the spell! We must have accidentally created some sort of link that binds all three of us together!”

I was so happy that I had figured it out, the practical applications of such a link didn’t even occur to me. I grinned from ear-to-ear and waited for Buffy to congratulate me on being such a genius.

“So, because you and I have this crazy, mystic tattoo,” Buffy asked, “We can watch Faith every time she has sex?”

“I guess so,” I replied, “This is still pretty new to me. It may take some time to work out all of the details and catalogue all the features of the spell.”

“And will Faith be able to watch us every time we have sex?” Buff asked.

I was about to say, “Of course not,” but then I realized I had absolutely no idea. Up until a few days ago, I had never even heard of the Apertor ex foribus. I actually had very little idea what all of its mystical applications were.

And that scared the crap out of me. The idea of Faith watching Buffy and I; every time we had sex just creeped me the fuck out.

“Um,” I said, as I tried to word this in a way that didn’t scare the crap out of Buffy, or make her angry at me.

“Um?” Buffy asked, sounding very accusatory, “You’re not exactly filling me with a lot of confidence when you say Um!”

“Well, how am I supposed to know?” I blurted out to Buffy, “It’s not like they covered this in Freshman orientation!” 

I balled up my hands into fists, and then; much to my surprise; the vision of Faith and Stephanie having sex disappeared.

I took a few seconds to think about that. Was there a time-limit on how long these things lasted, or was there a trigger that made the vision disappear?

And then; when I unclenched my fists; I saw Stephanie’s face between Faith’s thighs, hard at work, licking Faith’s moist, pink pubic lips. And I could hear some serious moaning coming from Faith’s mouth.

It was a beautiful sight. I was very nearly hypnotized by it. It kind of made me understand why guys watched porn.

Then; acting on a hunch; I clenched my fists again, and the vision of Faith and Stephanie disappeared.

And when I unclenched my fists; and opened my hands wide; Stephanie was vigorously tonguing Faith’s pussy again.

“Okay, I think I’ve got some of this figured out,” I told Buffy.

I explained to her that covering up the tattoo seemed to block the signal. Buffy and I experimented with this, and she realized I was right. If we opened our hands and exposed the tattoo to the light, we could see Faith and Stephanie doing the naked, naughty, panting testing-drive of Stephanie’s new mattress. If we thrust our hands into our pockets, clenched our hands into fists or wore gloves, the visions of naked, lesbian sex disappeared.

“The next time we have sex, we should wear gloves,” Buffy opined.

“Ooh, like medical, rubber gloves,” I suggested, “And you could be a prison-guard, and I could be a mischievous prisoner from cell-block D! And you could force me to submit to a strip-search! And when I’m completely naked, you could make me submit to a body cavity search!”

Buffy gave me a look and said, “You get way too turned on by all this women’s prison stuff, Will.”

“Well, I just know what I like,” I countered, “And besides, you’re very sexy when you play the role of a very stern, authoritarian prison guard.”

 

* * * * * * * * * *

Buffy may have acted all judgmental, but once we landed in California, and I had a chance to freshen up in airport bathroom, Buffy made a quick stop at the airport CVS and bought a box of disposable rubber gloves, and a tube of surgilube lubricating jelly.

I was looking forward to playing the role of the prisoner that gets stripped naked and forced to submit to the dominant prisoner guard, but Buffy insisted on stopped by at Giles’s apartment first, and giving him a full report on our trip to Cleveland.

 

I pouted and tried to convince Buffy that sex was more important, and that reporting to Giles could wait until later, but Buffy was the Slayer. And being the Slayer meant duty and responsibility and promptly sharing information with Giles.

“So, Faith is staying in Cleveland?” Giles asked.

“She and Stephanie are BFFs now,” Buffy explained, “They’re gonna live together.”

“BFFs?” Giles asked.

“It’s an acronym,” I explained, “It means best friends forever.”

Both Buffy and I left out the part of the story where Faith and Stephanie had hours and hours of lesbian sex on Stephanie’s bed. We also left out the part where the tattoos on the palms of our hands allowed us to spy on Faith and watch her lesbian sex marathon for most of the flight back to California.

“Well, as long as she’s safe and we know where to find her, I suppose it’s over. Case closed. Well done, you two.”

* * * * * * * * * *

When we got home, Terri was nowhere to be found, so Buffy and I had the entire house to ourselves. We took advantage of that, and got ready for kinky prison guard and misbehaving prisoner lesbian sex. We each snapped a rubber glove onto our right hands; as a precaution to keep Faith from spying on our lovemaking; and then I gave Buffy my most hungry, adoring look.

“Hang on, I gotta change my clothes first,” Buffy said, and she made me wait in the kitchen while she got dressed.

I was a little bit surprised. Sex was usually a spontaneous thing for us. We never had to get dressed up for it before. I was curious as to why Buffy suddenly felt the need to dress up first. And why did she have to do it in private? I’d seen her naked plenty of times before. Why did she suddenly need privacy to change her clothes? It’s not like she was shy about me seeing her naked butt. Her butt was totally the perfect size and shape. It was a butt to be proud off.

I went over this in my mind six or seven times, and I was unable to come up with an answer no matter how many times I tried. Then Buffy came out of our bedroom and marched into the kitchen, wearing a prison guard uniform.

It was a very smart-looking uniform, with tailored, black slacks, a grey, uniform shirt, with a patch sewn into one sleeve that read “Sunnydale Women’s Correctional Center”. She also wore a leather belt with a nightstick attached to one side and a black, leather pouch attached to the other side.

“Oooooh,” I enthused as I took in the whole thing. Buffy looked very dominant and authoritative in her uniform. She even wore black, leather boots to complete the whole stern, authoritarian look.

“When did you get this?” I asked, barely able to hear my own voice over the sound of my heart beating like a Buddy Rich drum solo.

“Costume shop,” Buffy replied, “They were supposed to have it ready for me in time for Halloween, but they totally took too long to finish. They didn’t have it ready for me until just after Christmas.”

I felt a throbbing fire in my loins, and I didn’t really care how long it took for them to custom-design Buffy’s costume. Just looking at her, in her grey and black prison-guard uniform made me feel deliciously submissive. I felt an irrational urge to strip naked right there in the kitchen and get down on my hands and knees and lovingly kiss her black leather boots.

Buffy saw the look on my face and smiled. I think she realized how ready and eager I was to be dominated by her.

And then she pulled her nightstick from its holster and used it to point towards our bedroom.

“Down the hall, prisoner, second door on the right,” Buffy said in her stern, prison-guard voice, “I’ve had enough of your mischief, Willow Rosenberg! You’ve earned yourself a strip-search!”

I felt a soft, wet pulse in my sex and I was unable to stifle a gasp as a walked down the hall and towards our bedroom. Buffy placed the tip of her nightstick gently into the small of my back and nudged me forward as she walked behind me.

The way Buffy was barking out orders made my blood race and my body heat up to a feverish temperature. I don’t know why, but I got all hot and excited whenever Buffy did her strict, disciplinarian thing.

“Yes, Officer Summers,” I replied timidly, and I placed my hands behind the back of my neck and laced my fingers together without Buffy even telling me to. It just seemed to me the way a prisoner should behave when taking orders from a strict prison guard like Officer Summers.

Once we were both in the bedroom, Buffy locked the door behind us and said, “Okay, prisoner, take your clothes off. All of ‘em. Strip!”

I felt an ever-growing heat between my legs every time Buffy barked orders like that at me. My breathing sped up and I untucked my shirt from the waistband of my pants and began to yank it up above my head. Then I removed my shoes and socks and unzipped the front of my jeans.

Buffy watched me strip like a predatory cat watches a wounded bird. She made me feel more and more vulnerable with every item of clothing that I removed. When I was down to just my panties, I hesitated and gave Buffy a pleading look. I wanted to be totally naked and vulnerable before Buffy, but somehow it seemed to me that the naughty prisoner in the Sunnydale Women’s Correctional Center would have been nervous and hesitant. I acted nervous and hesitant to be try to be true to the role I was playing.

“Panties too,” Buffy demanded, and I slipped my thumbs into the waistband of my lycra panties and pulled them all the way down to my ankles.

When I was standing totally naked in front of Buffy, I felt an agonizing wave of desire pass through me. Something about being utterly and completely naked while Buffy stood there in her smart-looking, prison-guard uniform made me feel more vulnerable than ever before. And that feeling of blatant vulnerability caused my exposed nipples to harden, and my moist pussy to throb with hungry spasms.

My discarded clothes were in a heap on the bedroom floor. Buffy barely spared them a glance and said, “It doesn’t look like you were hiding anything in your clothing, but maybe you’re a clever little prisoner, who thinks you can hide stuff from me inside your body.”

Then Buffy placed her strong, capable hands on my upper arms, spun me around, made me face the wall and said, “Place your hands up against the wall and spread your legs.”

I began to whimper and pant and I felt the thrill of anticipation spread and permeate my entire body. My nipples became so hard that they ached, and my clit was so hard and swollen, that it was peeking out of its hood.

Buffy had me arch my back and stick out my butt more, and when my ass was shamelessly on display, I felt cold, oily lubricant being drizzled in between my butt-cheeks and smeared by Buffy’s finger, in a clockwise, circular motion, all across the delicate surface of my anus.

Then, I moaned helplessly as I felt one of Buffy’s fingers pushing firmly yet gently against the tender flesh of my pink, anal cleft.

“Don’t tense up,” I heard Buffy whisper softly into my ear, “When I push my finger inside of you, your asshole needs to be relaxed. If you’re tight and sealed-shut, it’s going to really hurt when I force my finger inside of you.”

Buffy had been inside my vagina plenty of times, but I wasn’t used to her impaling me through the anus. I was kind of nervous about being anally penetrated for the first time, but Buffy’s advice made sense. I made a conscious effort to relax my sphincter muscle and then I felt Buffy’s finger push through and invade my tight anal orifice.

Her invading digit twisted, probed, explored and wriggled around inside of me. I moaned and felt a degree of helplessness and vulnerability I had never known before. My legs trembled and I groaned helplessly, but somehow, it felt delicious the way I was forced to be naked and helpless for my stern, demanding, abusive, blonde prison guard.

 

 

“There doesn’t seem to be anything hidden in here,” Buffy said as her invading finger wriggled around inside my rectum, “But there are other orifices I can check.”

Buffy slid her finger out of my tight orifice, and stripped off her rubber glove. Then she dropped that glove into our trash can, and snapped on a fresh one.

“Spread those legs further apart,” Buffy ordered me, and I whimpered.

My legs were already spread pretty far apart, but when Buffy used that stern, prison-guard voice of hers, I melted inside and disobedience was unthinkable. I somehow forced my thighs even further apart and left my slick, swollen pubic lips, lewdly exposed.

“What have you got hidden in here?” Buffy asked and I could feel one or two gloved fingers gently gliding across the surface of my swollen labia. It was a gentle touch, but my pubic lips were so sensitive at this point that the physical contact of her fingers sent yummy shockwaves throughout my entire body.

“Nothing, Officer Summers,” I replied with a weak, timid voice. I felt hot, feverish and my pussy was dripping wet. I wanted to tell Buffy to shove her fingers inside of me and make me cum, but that would have spoiled the mood of the game we were playing. When you’re incarcerated in a women’s prison, you don’t give orders to the prison guards.

My heart beat like a Tony Thompson drum solo, and my pussy throbbed desperately, but Buffy made me wait. She spent a sadistically long amount of time tracing the outline of my swollen pubic lips before actually thrusting her fingers inside of me. My breath quickened with anticipation, and my breasts rose and fell at least a dozen times as my breathing became more labored as I awaited being impaled by Buffy’s strong, fabulous, capable fingers.

She thrust two fingers deep inside of me and probed my needy sex. I tried to suppress my moaning, and failed miserably. My legs trembled and an agonizing wave of desire swept across my entire body, originating in my loins and expanding uncontrollably until my entire body was nothing but a sweaty, trembling, feverish, needy, libidinous mess.

“I’m not finding any hidden contraband,” Buffy said as she probed my needy pussy with her strong, capable fingers, “But your pussy is soaking wet. I think you’re enjoying this.”

 

“Yes, Officer Summers,” I said as I squirmed my hips in a very suggestive manner and made excited, breathy noises as her fingers took me closer and closer to orgasm.

 

“Hey, stop that,” Buffy snapped at me, as she quickly withdrew her fingers from my throbbing sex, “I didn’t tell you to hump my fingers like a shameless, wanton bitch, did I?”

“No, Officer Summers,” I replied playfully, “I’ve been a naughty and mischievous prisoner. You should probably spank me for being such a shameless, wanton bitch.”

Buffy leaned forward until I could feel her hot breath in my ear and softly whispered, “Willow, you do remember that I’m the Slayer, right? I’ve got super-strength. If I spank you, I could end up breaking your hip.”

I whispered back, “Just use some self-control. When you spank me, just make sure you don’t hit me any harder than two-hundred P.S.I. and you should be fine.”

“Will, when you say stuff like ‘two-hundred P.S.I.’ you might as well be speaking Italian. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“P.S.I.,” I elaborated, “Is an anacronym. It’s stand for pounds per square inch.”

Buffy sighed loudly, and then whispered back, “Will, I got a C-minus in twelfth grade science, remember? I have no idea how hard to spank to equal two-hundred pounds per square inch.”

My pussy was dripping wet and throbbing with need, but I talked Buffy through the logistics of spanking me hard enough, without causing any actual injuries. I told her to put me over her knee and begin spanking me with very mild slaps and gradually increase the force behind them. When she got the point where she was spanking my bare bottom with just the right intensity, I’d let her know.

Buffy pulled the chair out from our computer desk and sat down on it. I draped my naked body over her firm thighs and then she brought her hand down on my naked bottom.

Her first spank was so weak I barely felt it.

Her second spank wasn’t much harder than that. It wasn’t until the fifteenth or sixteenth spank that Buffy finally got the hang of it, and was spanking hard enough to sting.

“Okay, that feels about right,” I informed Buffy, my voice thick with sexual tension. “Keep spanking me about as hard as that last smack.”

Buffy made a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a grunt, and obligingly began to spank my bare butt cheeks.

My pussy was wet and throbbing as Buffy spanked me. I’d never been spanked by a girlfriend (or a boyfriend for that matter) before, but today it suddenly seemed like one of the sexiest things two people could do together. Me draping my naked body over Buffy’s lap and voluntarily submitting myself to a stinging spanking was one of the most submissive things that I could do for Buffy, and I had strongly embraced the idea that we being submissive to Buffy was a very important and erotic part of our sex life.

 

The more I surrendered to Buffy and made myself vulnerable to her, the more it made my pussy throb. I never got this way with Oz or Xander. Only Buffy inspired this submissive longing in me.

“Ow! Ow! Ow,” I exclaimed as Buffy’s smacks against my bare flesh accumulated and made my butt sting with a riot of red-hot pain. Normally I don’t like pain, but when I was naked and over Buffy’s lap, the pain of an over-the-knee spanking seemed delicious and erotic.

I decided that one of the things I really enjoyed about being spanked by Buffy was the intimacy. It’s very intimate. I’m humbled. Buffy witnesses me humbling myself. It forces Buffy and I to be closer because of my surrender and Buffy taking the lead.

Then, Buffy paused in the punishing of my bare bottom and said, “Maybe we better stop now. Your bottom is really starting to get red and tender-looking.”

“Just ten more,” I said through clenched teeth. The pain was intense, but so was the throbbing in my pussy. I was kinda confident that I could reach orgasm just from corporal punishment alone. And even if I couldn’t, this spanking could definitely be the sort of foreplay that created a powerful buildup for an even more powerful orgasm. I panted heavily as my loins throbbed and wanton desire permeated my entire body.

“You’re being more kinky than normal, Will,” Buffy observed, to which I replied, “Me? You’re the one wearing a prison guard uniform!”

Buffy proceeded to punish my bare bottom again, and I think she started spanking me even harder than before. The slaps definitely seemed to sting more than they did before.

I suppose Buffy had finally got into the spirit of punishing her naughty female convict. Or maybe she was upset with me for my crack about her uniform. Whatever the reason the last ten swats really stung. I thought I might prove how brave I was by not crying out while Buffy spanked me, but my resolve weakened as Buffy changed her tactics. First, she hit me across both cheeks at once, then she alternated between the left and the right, then she aimed for that sensitive spot where the top of the thigh meets the buttock. 

It wasn’t long before I was making pathetic moaning and whimpering noises. I tried to be brave, but Buffy made it difficult. Just when I thought I had adjusted to the punishment I was receiving, a sudden sharp blow across the backs of my thighs made me yelp. Then while I was attempting to adjust to the misery of that blow, Buffy rained down a rapid succession of blows on my right buttock and another succession of blows on my left. My bottom was stinging with such intensity that I could almost believe it was on fire. Tears were welling up in my eyes when Buffy finally stopped spanking me.

 

“Sorry, Will,” Buffy said after the spanking was over, and my bottom was seething with a riot of white-hot, stinging pain, “I went over the count. I think that was more like twenty or twenty-five.”

“It’s okay,” I said through clenched teeth, “You’re a stern prison guard. You’re not supposed to show mercy to impertinent prisoners like me.”

My bottom felt really hot and abused, but my pussy felt hotter and more intensely throbbing and needy than I could remember it ever feeling before. The intense corporal punishment hadn’t quite driven me over the edge into orgasm, but it had come close. I could feel one wave of desire after another resonating through my body, heating my loins and making my nipples harden and swell until they ached. 

I could feel my pussy overflowing with the juices of my desire, and I spread my thighs apart, knowing that Buffy had a birds-eye view of the juices gushing from my needy sex.

“You’re really into getting punished, aren’t you?” Buffy asked, obviously seeing the evidence of my arousal between my thighs.

I whimpered in response. I desperately needed Buffy to finish what she had started. If I didn’t get an orgasm soon I was going to go insane.

Then I felt Buffy’s fingers tracing delicate lines across the hollow between my thigh and my groin and I gasped.

“Willow Rosenberg,” Buffy said admonishingly, “Do you have some sort of unhealthy B&D fixation?”

Without even thinking, I immediately replied, “If saying that I have a B&D fixation will get you to do naughty things in between my legs and make me cum, then yes, I have an unhealthy B&D fixation, an extraordinarily powerful, naughty, wanton, libidinous B&D fixation.”

Buffy’s amused, girlish laughter filled the room, and then she said, “Okay, Will. You don’t have to brag about it.”

I don’t remember what I had intended to say after that, but I do remember that I lost the power of speech as Buffy placed her hands on my inner thighs, spread my legs further apart, and then I felt I one of her strong, capable hands cupping my palpitating pussy. 

I was staring down at the floor, but I could feel Buffy’s fingers on the swollen lips of my sex, and I moaned as Buffy rubbed her insistent fingers across my swollen nether lips and eventually found their way inside of me. 

"Uuahhhuhhh," I moaned as Buffy probed my sex with her fingers. 

Buffy's fingers were incredible, stimulating me in ways that made we squirm and whimper. I writhed uncontrollably while impaled and stuffed full, with Buffy's strong, insistent fingers. It didn’t take long for Buffy to stimulate the right nerve endings and bring the building threat of orgasm into reality. My orgasm had been building in strength and intensity inside of me since before I’d stripped naked and now Buffy had unleashed it like a tidal wave being unleashed and drowning an entire coastal town. I came and came and came while Buffy’s fingers impaled my pussy and controlled my orgasm from inside my sex. She was prolonging my orgasm, making me spasm, writhe and cry out, and it didn't seem as if Buffy would ever stop. I realized that I was going to have to beg before Buffy’s merciless fingers ceased manipulating my sex and forcing agonizingly powerful waves to erupt from my sexual core. 

My hips bounced up and down and I squirmed frantically on Buffy’s lap and called out, "Buffy! Stop! Please stop! Buffy, sweetie! Please stop! Enough!" 

“Well, if you’re sure,” Buffy said teasingly, and finally, removed her fingers from my sex and relinquished control of my libido.

I groaned, my pussy was incredibly tender, but I was basking in the delicious post-orgasm afterglow. My body went limp, flopping over like a rag doll, my body was utterly drained after such a powerful, bone-crushing orgasm.

I was utterly spent, and just wanted to lie there and not get up for at least another eight or nine hours, but then Buffy said, “Get off my lap, Will.”

I couldn’t seem to form words at this point, so I just made some inquisitive vowel sounds.

“Stern prison guards don’t just give orgasms away for free,” Buffy explained, “When a stern prison guard gives a prisoner an orgasm, she expects to get something in return. You’re gonna have to get your mouth in between my legs and pay me for what I just did for you.”

I realized Buffy had a point, and I began to move my weary body off of her lap, and knelt at her feet.


	11. The truth is out there ...in Sunnydale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agents Mulder and Scully arrive in Sunnydale to investigate a strange occurrence.

It was Tuesday, February 15th. Valentine’s Day had passed just the day before, and there were no love spells to bring chaos to the holiday, like we had back in 1998. Buffy and I spent most of the day in bed, moaning and gasping as we each did yummy things to the other with our lips, teeth, tongues and fingers. I was filled with so much post-orgasmic bliss, I almost didn’t want to get out of bed the next day.

The thing is, when you’re a college student you really should go to class. College tuition is very expensive, so if you skip a lecture, or miss a class, it’s like throwing money away.

Also, Tara had been telling me about a great professor who taught a course in comparative religion. From what Tara told me, Professor Ward gave lectures that were riveting and thought-provoking. I decided to register for her class and see if she really lived up to the hype.

So, it was Tuesday morning around 9:00, and I was just outside the Admissions and Records Office, when I saw her.

Professor Walsh.

From what I’d been told, Professor Walsh had been arrested for murdering some scientists at Cal Tech. She was supposed to be in prison right now. What was she doing on the UC Sunnydale campus? I quietly snuck closer, and tried to spy on her.

“You shouldn’t even be here,” Professor Arenholz snapped accusingly at Professor Walsh, “You no longer work here. All your classes have been reassigned, and your parking privileges revoked. Since your arrest, you’re no longer welcome here, and if Dean Guerrero sees you here, he’s going to call the police.”

Professor Arenholz was somewhere between thirty and forty years old, and was going prematurely grey, but she was as scrappy and energetic as a teenager. She was also about three inches taller than Professor Walsh, so she was trying to use her superior height to intimidate the Professor Walsh. It didn’t seem to be working.

Professor Arenholz spoke sharply and admonishingly, and gestured wildly with her hands, but Professor Walsh wasn’t backing down. It didn’t take long for a crowd to form, and soon dozens of students had gathered to watch the spectacle.

“I didn’t come back to teach, and I didn’t come back to take anybody’s parking space,” Professor Walsh retorted, “I’m just here to pick up a package. It was sent to the University, and addressed to me, so I have a legal right to it. Now, if you get out of my face, I’ll grab it, and go. You’ll never see me again.”

“Oh, you’ll go now,” Professor Arenholz said imperiously, poking Maggie Walsh roughly with her index finger.

Professor Walsh bared her teeth angrily at the taller woman and suddenly Professor Arenholz was on her knees. Walsh had grabbed Professor Arenholz’s finger and twisted it painfully, until Arenholz was whimpering and gasping in pain.

“Listen to me, you arrogant harridan,” Professor Walsh spat, “I don’t take orders from you, and if you ever lay a finger on me again, I’ll break every finger you’ve got, on both hands! Understand?”

That was when the campus police showed up. Three uniformed campus security guards pushed their way through the crowd of students, and the tallest one grabbed Professor Walsh by the wrist, and said, “That’s enough! You’re assaulting one of our teachers, and that stops now!”

Professor Walsh released her grip on the other woman’s finger, and turned to face the security guards. I let out a sigh of relief, as I thought this meant the situation was now going to deescalate.

“We have orders to escort you off of school property,” the tallest of the security guards said, “And if Professor Arenholz wants to file assault charges against you, we’ll notify the Sunnydale Police, and assist them by making sure you don’t flee the scene, or resist arrest.”

“Of course, I want to file assault charges,” Professor Arenholz snapped, holding her wounded finger, and still kneeling on the ground, “She broke my finger!”

“Don't be such a crybaby,” Professor Walsh retorted, “it’s only a sprain.”

“Ma’am, that’s enough,” snapped another security guard, and tried to grab Professor Walsh by the arm, but suddenly she was a blur of motion.

She hit the man that was holding her wrist in the solar plexus, causing him to double over and cry out in pain. Next, she spun around and kicked another security guard in the balls. The third security guard pulled a container of pepper-spray from his duty-belt and aimed it at Professor Walsh’s face, but before he could spray her with it, Professor Walsh smashed her foot into his face with an impressive side kick that hit him so hard, he dropped his pepper spray and collapsed to the ground.

The guard that had been kicked in balls pulled his handgun out of his holster and yelled, “Freeze,” as he took aim at professor Walsh. Meanwhile, the tall one got on his two-way radio and called for backup.

Instead of complying with his orders, Professor Walsh proceeded to do a triple-forward flip, closed the distance between herself and the security guard and maneuvered behind him, so that she could get him in a choke hold.

“You really think you can arrest me?” Professor Walsh inquired as the security guard’s face turned a dark red color, and he struggled to breath.

“Let him go,” bellowed the tall security guard, and he drew his own handgun, and pointed it at Professor Walsh’s head.

What happened next seems impossible, but I was there. I saw it with my own eyes.

Professor Walsh released her grip on the man’s throat, but she grabbed him by the waist and somehow managed to throw him a distance of approximately ten feet, so that he crashed into his fellow security guard with enough force to knock them both over, in an explosive tangle of arms and legs.

It would seem impossible that a woman Maggie Walsh’s age would even be able to pick up a man full grown man (especially a burly one that’s wearing about twenty-five pounds of police gear), but she picked him up and threw him, and she did it with such speed and agility, it was almost too quick for the eye to follow. The tall security guard didn’t even have any time to react!

After that, Professor Walsh kicked one of the security guards in the face, and then she pushed her way through a thick group of students and disappeared into the crowd. According to her books, Maggie Walsh is fifty years old, and spent her entire life as an academic, but the woman I just saw beat the crap out of three fully-grown men with the speed, strength and skill of a highly-trained athlete, in peak training condition!

What the hell was going on?

* * * * * * * * * *

The backup that the tall campus security guard had called for got there too late to stop Professor Walsh from fleeing the scene. However, they did insist that about thirty students, Professor Arenholz and I stick around to give eye-witness testimony.

At first, I was taken into a room, and told to give my testimony to a campus security guard, but about an hour later, four FBI agents showed up, and started questioning the witnesses all over again.

The whole thing took hours, I ended up wasting the entire morning answering questions about what I saw.

The only good thing about the entire affair was that the FBI agent who questioned me was surprisingly attractive. She was a slender redhead, dressed very dapper in corporate-wear that flattered her figure, while still making her look serious and authoritative. I’m assuming she was concealing a handgun somewhere in her clothes, but her blazer was tailored so well that I couldn’t tell where her gun was located.

“Ms. Rosenberg,” the FBI agent said at the onset of our meeting, “I’m Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI, and I’m here to ask you some questions about what happened on campus today.”

So, I told her everything about what I saw outside the Admissions and Records Office. Agent Scully seemed to be pretty dubious about my eye-witness testimony.

“And you’re certain that this was Professor Walsh that you saw, today?” Agent Scully asked, skepticism practically dripped from her every word.

“I’m sure it was her,” I responded readily, “I used to be one of her students. I was in her Introduction to Psych class. I know her face, I know her voice. I’d recognize her anywhere.”

Agent Scully seemed to be utterly unimpressed with my answer and said, “So, your position is that a woman in her early-fifties brutally assaulted three campus security guards, and a teacher, and despite the fact that all four of these people were younger and larger than she was, she dispatched them all quickly, efficiently, and with her bare hands?”

I made an exasperated sound, and then replied, “Look, I know how ridiculous it sounds, but, I also know what I saw! I wouldn’t have thought that Professor Walsh could’ve beat up even one of those people, not even Professor Arenholz, but somehow, she pulled it off! I was standing right there when it happened!”

Again, Agent Scully gave me her “not impressed” look, and then replied, “Ms. Rosenberg, approximately thirty minutes ago, the FBI contacted the warden at the Chino Correctional Institution for Women. According to the warden at the CCIW, Margaret Walsh is still incarcerated there. She hasn’t escaped. Her whereabouts have been accounted for all day today, all day yesterday, and all last week.”

And then, after a fairly dramatic pause, she said, “So, I’m curious, if Margaret Walsh was locked up in a cell at the Chino Correctional Institution for Women this morning, how could she also be here on your campus this morning, assaulting four people?”

Agent Scully spent at least another hour, trying to break me, and get me to recant my testimony, but I know what I saw, and I stuck with it. 

I toyed with the idea that the Maggie Walsh I saw on campus might be a skinwalker. Buffy and I had run into a skinwalker about two months earlier. They were strong and fast, and could shapeshift to look like anyone. They could even imitate voices perfectly. I resolved to bring up this idea with Buffy and Giles, as soon as I could get away from the inquisitive FBI agent.

Of course, I couldn’t tell Agent Scully about my skinwalker theory. Can you imagine an FBI agent believing in something supernatural like that? Hah! That’ll never happen! FBI agents are too conservative and inflexible in their thinking. They’d never be willing to entertain the idea that paranormal creatures like skinwalkers and vampires might exist.

* * * * * * * * * *

When I got home, Buffy was nowhere to be found. I ran into Terri in the kitchen, peeling cucumbers, and then chopping them into slices. She said that Buffy had left about twenty minutes before I got home, and had gone to visit Giles.

Sometimes I wish I owned a car. Giles’s apartment is located about three miles from where I live. I mean, I’ve got great legs. I have years of experience at running away from vampires, werewolves, zombies and other supernatural threats, so my legs are really strong and resilient, but walking three miles is time-consuming, and I had information I wanted to share with Buffy right now!

When, I got to Giles’s apartment the door was unlocked, so I just went right on in.

“HALT,” a stringent voice forcefully demanded as soon as I set foot in Giles’s apartment, “Who are you working for? Give me their name, or I swear, I will- “

A tall, slender man with fanatical eyes was pointing a very large pistol-crossbow at me and looked as if he was very willing to use it.

“Elisedd, she’s a friend,” Giles snapped admonishingly at the man with the loaded crossbow, “And if she works for anyone, she works for me! Now, put the weapon down!”

The scary man with the scary weapon, eye-balled me suspiciously for approximately one more second, and then he obeyed Giles’s orders, and lowered his weapon.

“My apologies, lady,” Elisedd said, now looking far less scary, “But I did not know that you were a friend, and I have been informed that a great number of my enemies are in Rupert’s valley.”

“Um, yeah,” I said hesitantly, “Well, thanks for not shooting me.”

“Willow, this is Elisedd, a champion from the court of Queen Titania,” Giles said, attempting to introduce us, now that sudden and violent death seemed to be off the menu, “Elisedd, this is Willow, a very astute, young woman. She is also a loyal ally of mine, and Buffy’s faithful companion.”

“I have ruined our first meeting,” Elisedd said, sounding very contrite, “However I do hope that we might still be allies. If you allow it, I can prove myself worthy of your good will.”

I walked over to Elisedd, and he set down his weapon on Giles’s dining room table. We shook hands and I said, “Clean slate.”

Elisedd raised both of his eyebrows in confusion and said, “I’m sorry, clean slate?”

Before I could explain the concept to him, Giles responded, “It’s an American saying. Basically, it means that the two of you get to start over again, and Willow will disregard everything that has transpired between the two of you in the past.”

“Oh, very good,” Elisedd responded to both Giles and me, “I agree then, clean slate.”

Before we could say anything else, Buffy and Xander pushed the front door open, and arrived, carrying two boxes from Kettle Glazed Donuts.

“We’re back,“ Xander announced bombastically, “We got chocolate-chocolate donuts, chocolate drizzle donuts, chocolate sprinkle donuts, Boston crème, and also some donuts with raspberry filling.”

“Oh,” exclaimed Elisedd, his eyes going wide with joyous anticipation.

It turns out that the land where Elisedd comes from has no chocolate, and no donuts, however, Elisedd loves chocolate and when he’s in our dimension, and the opportunity to partake of chocolate comes up, he views it as a, extraordinary treat.

“Rupert, you are a truly gracious host for providing this repast,” Elisedd said with authentic gratitude before he took his first bite of a chocolate-chocolate donut.

“Yes, well, now that you’re all here,” Giles said even-temperedly, “I’ll explain the situation that we’re all in.”

It was very strategic of Giles to give us all yummy treats before he started to explain the situation. With our mouths full, and chewing on yummy pastries, we weren’t very likely to interrupt him.

“It was about twenty-two years ago, Elisedd rescued me from an unfortunate situation that I had gotten myself into, at Highgate Cemetery in North London. Since that time, I have owed him a favor, and now; much to my surprise; Elisedd has shown up to collect on that debt.”

“It was twenty years ago,” Elisedd said, contradicting Giles, talking with his mouth fully of chocolate-y goodness.

“It was 1978,” Giles said, visibly irate at being contradicted, “It is now the year 2000. Mathematically, it must therefore have been twenty-two years ago. And, need I remind you which of us has been shown to have inferior math skills?”

“My apologies, Rupert,” Elisedd replied sheepishly, as he reached for another donut, “Please continue with your summation. You can tell them about the gauntlets.”

“Yes,” Giles said stoically, “Apparently a very ancient and powerful artifact showed up in Titania’s Kingdom very recently. They’re known as the Gauntlets of the Huntsman, and if the person who wears them is powerful enough, they can command the Wild Hunt.”

“So, they can go hunting?” Buffy asked, also talking with her mouth full, “I don’t see what the big deal is. I go hunting all the time. I find what I’m hunting, I kill it, poof, no big deal.”

“Yes, well, the Wild Hunt is a bit more complicated than that,” Giles said, sounding annoyed again, “Whosoever commands the Wild Hunt can command an army of warriors, soldiers, predators, thugs and killers. And not just human predators either. A typical Wild Hunt would include trolls, ogres, wargs, gruffs and hobs. If the Wild Hunt were unleashed here in Sunnydale, it would undoubtedly include vampires, werewolves, skinwalkers and Fyarl demons. Once unleashed, the Wild Hunt is basically unstoppable.”

“So, Elisedd’s queen has a weapon that makes her unstoppable,” I said, “Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” 

“Queen Titania had a weapon that made her unstoppable,” Giles corrected me, “Shortly after the Gauntlets of the Huntsman appeared in her realm, they were stolen.”

“Uh oh,” Buffy exclaimed, she could sort of see where this was going. 

“Queen Titania’s agents captured the thief shortly after he perpetrated his evil deed,” Elisedd added, “But he didn’t have the gauntlets upon his person. After interrogating the thief, we learned that he sent the gauntlets here.”

“Why here?” I asked.

“The thief was human,” responded Elisedd, “And he knew that the Hellmouth has magics that would interfere with the spells that the Sidhe normally use to locate things of value.”

“A human thief that knows about the Hellmouth, and knows about magic,” I said, “Would this thief be anybody that we know?”

“Yes, it would,” Giles said, pausing for effect, or possibly because he really just didn’t like saying the guy’s name, “It would be Ethan Rayne.”

“A pox upon his house,” exclaimed Elisedd, “When he is once again captured, his scrotum will become a nest for fire-wasps!”

“Eeew,” Xander said disapprovingly, “You guys really know how to carry a grudge.” And as he said it, Xander picked up one of the large, leather-bound books from Giles’s collection and set it down in his lap, in what looked like an unconscious move to defend his own scrotum.

“No punishment is too cruel for the perpetrator that steals a weapon that mighty from the Queen of the Summer Court,” Elisedd replied.

“Controlling the Wild Hunt,” Giles explained, “Is very much the Sidhe equivalent of controlling nuclear weaponry. If Ethan Rayne were to sell the gauntlets to one of Queen Titania’s enemies, her entire kingdom would be at risk.”

“You must never allow such a thing to happen,” Elisedd snapped at Giles, “You must find them and recover them before any of Queen Titania’s enemies fetch them!”

“Enemies?” Buffy asked, “Queen Titania has enemies?”

“Other than Ethan?” Xander asked.

“Yes,” Giles replied to both of them, “Just like most monarchs, Queen Titania has rivals in foreign lands who would invade if they had force of arms great enough to overcome her armies.”

“Queen Mab is the Queen of the Winter Court,” Elisedd explained, “And King Dovregubben is the king of the Troll Territories. Either one of them would likely launch an invasion into Queen Titania’s Kingdom if they ever gained the ability to control the Wild Hunt.”

“So, if we find these gauntlets and make sure that Titania gets them,” Buffy said, “Would we be preventing a war, or starting one?”

I saw where Buffy was going with this, and elaborated on her question, “Yeah, if Titania controls the Wild Hunt, how do we know, she wouldn’t invade the Winter Court, and try to overthrow Queen Mab?”

“Or that troll guy,” Xander added, catching on to the point Buffy and I were making.

Elisedd seemed shocked at the suggestion that we were making. The look of indignation on his face was almost comical.

“Queen Titania is the most just and fair monarch the Sidhe have ever known,” he protested, “Her subjects adore her for her wisdom, and for the ideals that she upholds! She would never tarnish her reputation with an unprovoked attack on another kingdom!”

I wasn’t entirely convinced, but Elisedd seemed to sincerely believe Queen Titania could be trusted with a weapon of unbelievable power. That didn’t mean that he was right. That just meant that he was a huge fan of his national leader. On the other hand, Ethan Rayne stole the gauntlets from Queen Titania. Ethan was about as trustworthy as a rabid weasel. If he thought that stealing from Queen Titania was a good idea, helping her get her gauntlets back was probably the right thing to do.

I was on my second donut when a thought occurred to me. What if Professor Walsh’s mysterious appearance on campus, and Ethan Rayne’s theft from Queen Titania’s realm were related somehow? I was pretty certain that the Professor Walsh that I saw on campus, wasn’t really Professor Walsh, but actually some sort of shape-shifter. 

“Elisedd, you said that some of your enemies were already here in Sunnydale,” I said, “Are any of them capable of shape-shifting? Could they masquerade as someone else if they wanted to?”

“True shape-shifting is a rare talent,” Elisedd replied, raising one eyebrow at my question, “However masquerading as someone else is not that difficult for agents of Queen Mab. A simple glamour is all it would take. Even King Dovregubben has agents that can perform a simple glamour. Many of the Sidhe learn this skill as children.”

“Uh huh,” I said, “Well, I think I might have seen one of your enemies on campus today.”

* * * * * * * * * *

It was like I had just turned a knob and cranked Elisedd up to eleven. He wanted to know everything about the person that I saw on campus. He wanted to know what she said, what she did, what she wanted, how she was dressed, hand gestures, body language, fighting style, tone of voice, everything!

I felt like I was being interrogated by the FBI all over again.

“This was most likely one of Mab’s agents,” Elisedd declared after he was done interrogating me, “Dovregubben’s agents don’t typically use words like ‘harridan’. They usually stick to words of two-syllables or less. Also, if one of Dovregubben’s agents were to physically strike a human, they would almost certainly be dead right now. This imposter struck four humans, and none of them perished.”

“So, we’re dealing with one of Mab’s agents?” Buffy inquired.

“For now,” Giles responded, “However the longer the gauntlets are in Sunnydale, the more operatives we can expect from all three of the Sidhe kingdoms.”

“Three rival Sidhe groups, all in Sunnydale,” I said, “All fighting each other for the same prize?”

“There’s going to be a lot of killing,” predicted Buffy.

“There’s going to be a lot of chaos,” predicted Giles, “Which is almost certainly why Ethan sent the gauntlets here in the first place. Ethan loves chaos. He’s probably in town right now, watching the turmoil from an undisclosed location, and gloating about the bloody great mess that he’s caused.”

“So, how do we stop Ethan from turning Sunnydale into a three-ring circus of blood, burning buildings, screaming, and ogres bashing in people heads?” I asked.

“Well, for starters, Elisedd and I will be checking out a number of motels, and other locations normally inhabited by transients. Perhaps we’ll get lucky, and find Ethan’s hiding place. Buffy will go to the Administration Building on campus and see if she can’t acquire the package that was sent to Professor Walsh. If we’re fortunate, it might contain the gauntlets everyone is looking for.”

Then Giles turned to me and said, “Willow, I’d like you to pay a visit to Donna Yamamoto. See if she’s learned of any unusual people coming into town in the past few days. Her club seems to be a magnet for paranormal beings. If any Sidhe agents come to Sunnydale, she’ll probably learn of it before anyone else.”

Last year, Donna Yamamoto opened a club in Sunnydale called Eye Candy. Buffy and I didn’t notice it at first, but Xander told us about it after he had been there about two-dozen times. It was a strip-club. That alone would be enough to draw people in, however most of the strippers were succubi. Also, one of the bouncers is something paranormal. She’s not a vampire or a succubus, but she’s way stronger than human. Donna Yamamoto, herself, is half human and half kitsune demon. 

With so many paranormal beings working there, it was inevitable that they would attract paranormal customers.

Donna wasn’t all that fond of Buffy or Xander, but for some reason she’d developed a fondness for me. If I went to go talk to her, I’d get escorted back to her office with no problem.

* * * * * * * * * *

Eye Candy opens at noon, but they don’t start getting a rush of customers until 7:30 at night. It was about 1:00 PM when I showed up, so the place was pretty quiet.

“Willow,” called out the bartender before I saw her, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

The bartender’s name is Ashley. She’s in her early twenties and cute in a Sandy Duncan sort of way. She has short, blonde hair, she’s always smiling and she’s always cheerful and energetic. Everybody likes her. She’s one of the most likable people I’ve ever met. 

“Hi, Ash,” I said, walking up to the bar, “Valentine’s Day was yesterday.”

“I like Valentine’s Day too much to stop celebrating after just one day,” Ash explained, smiling amicably, “It’s a day so full of hope and expectation. People do all kinds of adorable, romantic stuff on Valentine’s Day. We need more days where people do stuff like that.”

“You could put ecstasy in the drinks,” a familiar voice over my shoulder responded, “That would make people more affectionate.”

I looked over my shoulder, and there was Daryl. She was one of the strippers that worked at Eye Candy, only she was fully clothed right now. She was wearing some really nice leather books, skintight blue jeans and a black t-shirt with the words “Sarcastic Comment Loading…Please Wait” emblazoned across the front in a large white font.

Daryl is a succubus. Most of the strippers at Eye Candy are succubi. Now, normally succubi are like these evil sex-demons who seduce humans and drain a little bit more of their vitality every time they have sex until the human is dead. That’s typically how immortality works for succubi. They drain the vitality from young men (and sometimes young women) during sex, and that keeps them from aging. But Donna’s strippers all took some sort of oath, and now they all use a much more complicated method of feeding off of humans that doesn’t kill anybody. Buffy and Giles found it all to be confusing and counterintuitive. According to the Watcher’s Council, Vampires and Succubi were all supposed to be evil, but sometimes Buffy and Giles found exceptions to that rule.

“Drugging people isn’t romantic, Daryl,” Ashley said, “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.”

Daryl shrugged her shoulders and said, “When a guy falls in love, it’s just chemicals in his bloodstream. Vasopressin hits his brain and whammo, he falls in love! Ecstasy is just a different kind of chemical. They both make a guy act affectionate and go crazy for you, so why is one chemical romantic, and the other chemical some sort of crime?”

“Um,” Ashley began, but Daryl cut her off and said, “Either way, the guy is a slave to chemicals in his bloodstream.”

“Yeah, but one chemical is produced naturally in the guy’s body,” Ashley replied, “The other is cooked up in drug labs in Cambodia.”

Daryl had no comeback to this. She just shrugged her shoulders, sat down at the bar next to me and ordered a Long Island iced tea.

“Isn’t it a little early in the day to be boozing it up?” I asked, glancing at my watch. It was 1:17 in the afternoon.

“I’m having a rough week,” Daryl explained as she propped her elbows on the counter and looked at me, “My apartment building burnt down on Friday, and I haven’t found a new place to live yet. Until I find a new place, I’m stuck living with Kendell.”

Both of my eyebrows went up with that. Kendell and Daryl were both succubi. They were both strippers. They both worked for Donna Yamamoto. They seemed to have a lot in common. I kind of thought that the two of them would be ideal roommates.

“I thought you and Kendell got along pretty well,” I said, “Why is living with her so rough?”

“Succubi living with other succubi,” Ashley said as she brought Daryl’s drink over, “It’s a bad combination.”

Daryl picked up her drink and sucked almost all of it up in one long, continuous sip, as Ashley elaborated.

“Succubi generate this sort of mystical field. When humans are exposed to it, it causes intense feelings of sexual arousal and a euphoric feeling, sort of like everything is right in the world. But, when other succubi are exposed to this field, it does the exact opposite. It shuts down the sex drive completely, and it causes feelings of helplessness, depression and frustration.”

“But, she works here with succubi,” I protested, “She’s never seemed depressed before.”

“Being around large numbers of humans neutralizes the effect,” Daryl said, looking up from her drink, “The more humans we have in the building, the higher my morale goes.”

“Oh,” I replied, “Well, couldn’t you have just moved in with a human instead of a succubus?” 

Daryl shook her head and replied, “I’ve only been in Sunnydale a few months. The only humans I know are the ones who work here, and I’ve already asked all of them.”

Daryl ordered another Long Island iced tea and then elaborated, “Stephen insists on living alone, claims he needs his space, Nika won’t have me as a roommate because she’s afraid of me, Cheryl won’t let me come and live with her because that old gypsy woman on Edra Avenue told her that February was a bad month for her to make any changes in her life.”

“What about Jack?” I asked, “He’s human, isn’t he?”

“Jack Finlay?” Daryl said contemptuously, “He’s an asshole. He’s like Rush Limbaugh, only taller, with broader shoulders, stronger, and with a much bigger gun collection. I’d rather step in front of a speeding bus, than move in with Jack.”

“It doesn’t look good,” Ashley began, “And for some reason the motels and the apartment buildings around here all seem to be- “

Suddenly Daryl cut her off and said, “Wait a minute! You’re human!”

Daryl poked her finger at me and her face lit up, excitedly. I understood the implication of what she was saying, but I was too stunned to think of a response. I ended up just making some inarticulate vowel-sounds.

“You’re human, you’re not afraid of me, and you’re not an asshole! You’re perfect,” Daryl exclaimed, and then she got up from her barstool and hugged me.

“Daryl, I live in a two-bedroom townhouse,” I protested, “And there’s already three of us living there. Actually, it’s almost four, because Terri’s girlfriend spends a lot of time visiting. There’s no room. Where would you sleep?”

“I could sleep on the couch,” Daryl suggested, “You guys have a couch, right?”

Daryl broke from the hug and looked me in the eye. What could I say? I didn’t really want a succubus coming to live with me and Buffy, but I didn’t want to say it like that. That would have sounded racist. Or speciesist. Or something. I looked into her greyish-blue eyes and tried to think of a response to get me out of this, but the only words that my brain seemed capable of forming were, “Yeah, we have a couch.”

“This is perfect,” Daryl proclaimed enthusiastically, “I’m gonna go tell Kendell the good news!”

Daryl paid for her drinks and then ran off towards the stripper’s dressing room. When she was out of earshot, I said, “What the hell just happened?”

* * * * * * * * * *

Not long after that, I was told that Donna was in her office and that I could go back and talk to her. Donna sat behind her desk, looking very dapper and businesslike, in a tweed skirt-suit, and with four different piles of paperwork in front of her. She also had twelve different monitors nearby, that allowed her to keep track of what was going on in every part of her club, including the parking lot outside.

“Daryl looked very happy,” Donna said as I sat down, “I saw her hugging you when you were at the bar.”

“Yeah, apparently we’re moving in together,” I said without enthusiasm.

“You don’t sound very happy about it,” Donna observed.

“Can we not talk about my personal life?” I asked. I didn’t want to make Daryl unhappy by turning her away, but I also didn’t want to talk about the multitude of reasons why I thought having a succubus live with Buffy and me, was a bad idea.

“Fine,” Donna said, “Let’s get right down to it. I assume you’re here on some sort of official business for Mister Giles.”

I nodded my head in agreement, and said, “He thinks there may be three different factions of Sidhe here in Sunnydale, all wanting to claim the same mystical prize. Giles was wondering if maybe you’d seen anybody new in town that seemed suspicious.”

“Sidhe?” Donna asked.

“Yep.”

“Sidhe, as in elves, pixies, trolls, ogres, goblins, hobgoblins and things like that?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what Giles is looking for, things like that.”

“I thought those creatures were all just myths,” Donna said, her face incredulous.

“Oh, they’re real,” I assured Donna, “One of them showed up at Giles’s apartment, asking for his help.”

“Holy crap,” Donna said, and for a while she just sat there without saying anything. For somebody who was half Kitsune demon, and had almost a dozen succubi working for her, I thought she would be more at home with dealing with the paranormal.

Finally, she spoke up and said, “In the past two nights or so, we’ve had a few customers who seemed new in town, and who definitely weren’t human. These were all big guys, looked like they could be offensive linemen for the Oakland Raiders. They drank far more alcohol than a normal human could handle, and they didn’t have any American money. They paid for their drinks in gold and silver coins.”

“It sounds like you made a profit from them,” I said, knowing how valuable even one ounce of gold was. Even one gold coin could pay for drinks for dozens of people for the entire evening, and still have money left over for a huge tip. And apparently, they gave the bartender a multitude of gold coins.

“The woman who owns this club doesn’t care what sort of business tactics I use, just so long as my tactics turn a profit. If strange creatures from out of town want to overpay for drinks, and create huge profits, I see no downside to that.”

Okay,” I said hesitantly. It was a sleazy business tactic, that neither Buffy nor Giles would approve of, but I wasn’t going to mention that. 

“Although the most suspicious thing about them wasn’t their superhuman tolerance for alcohol, or their ignorance of how money works around here,” Donna said, “The most suspicious thing about them was how strong they were. Jack got into it with one of those guys, when he grabbed one of my girls, and pulled her off the stage. We have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to touching the girls.”

“Yeah, I know that,” I said. Most strip clubs had very strict rules when it comes to touching the strippers.

“Anyway, Jack tried to throw the guy out of the club, and the guy picked Jack up, and tossed him across the room like a poker chip.”

“Oh, my God,” I said. Jack is like a really big guy. He’s at least 6’ 6” and weighs over 300 pounds. There’s no way anybody human could just throw Jack across the room like that. There’s no human strong enough to do that. Well, maybe Buffy could do it, but she’s not a normal human. She’s the Slayer. She’s got superhuman strength.

“Is Jack alright?” I finally asked.

“He’ll be fine,” Donna said, waving her hand dismissively, “Jack is one of the toughest people I know. He recovers quickly. And Marianne stepped in and took care of the guy who threw Jack.”

Marianne was the other bouncer at Eye Candy. I’m not entirely certain what Marianne is, but she isn’t human. She’s as strong as a vampire, but she still casts a reflection, and she can go out into the sunlight without bursting into flames. But, whatever she is, she’s way stronger than any normal human being. 

“Any idea where these guys hang out, when they’re not at your club?” I asked.

“None,” she said, “But I bet you a dollar, they’re back here again tonight. The past two nights they’ve shown up here between seven and eight.”

“I’ll tell Giles,” I said.

“You do that, Willow,” Donna said to me, “But do me a favor? If you bring the Slayer down here, tell her not to get into any fights in my club? There’s a huge parking lot outside where she could fight, and not do any damage to my club, or scare away any of my patrons.”

“I’ll tell her,” I said.

* * * * * * * * * *

Giles would be happy about the information I got from Donna. Buffy would be a lot less happy when I told her about our new houseguest. I was trying to think of a way to break the news to her gently, and I decided to stop into the Espresso Pump, grab a coffee, sit down and carefully compose a speech that made it sound like this was not my fault, and there was no reason to be mad at me.

I thought about it. I should probably wait until I was naked to tell her. It was hard for Buffy to get angry at me if I was naked. Also, chocolate. Buffy loves chocolate. If I bring her something with chocolate-y goodness, that would also make it hard for Buffy to get angry with me. Was there a way for me to bring her chocolate, in the nude, without it seeming blatantly obvious that I was trying to manipulate her?

I was so deep into my own thoughts that I didn’t even notice when a strange man walked over to my table and set his coffee down in front of me. I don’t notice him until he spoke to me.

“Willow Rosenberg?” he said.

I looked up and saw a well-groomed man in his late twenties or early thirties, dressed in a suit and tie. His dress slacks and blazer were such a dark shade of blue that they were both nearly black. And his face and his clothes were so serious, I immediately pegged him as a lawyer or a government employee, possibly both.

“Yes?” I said, somewhat cautiously.

“I’m Special Agent Fox Mulder with the FBI,” he said, as he casually fished his federal ID out of the inside pocket of his blazer and showed it to me.

“I’ve already talked to the FBI today,” I said defensively.

“Yes, that would have been my partner, Dana Scully,” he said, “Her style of questioning tends to be very different from mine. Also, I tend to be a better listener. Do you mind if I sit down?”

“No. Go right ahead,” I said. 

I mean, he was an FBI agent. What was I supposed to say? The FBI has handguns, machine guns, high-tech surveillance equipment, an army of lawyers and computer science geeks who can hack into people’s computers and read their e-mails. Cooperating with the FBI seemed smarter than saying stuff that might piss them off.

When he was settled into the booth, Agent Mulder looked me in the eye and said, “My partner and I both spent the morning interviewing witnesses, but the responses I got were very different from hers.”

“Really?” I asked, not sure where this was going.

Agent Mulder made a sound that indicated an affirmative answer, and then he said, “Several of the witnesses I spoke to, indicated that odd occurrences happen in this town on a fairly regular basis.”

“They did?” I asked timidly, “Odd how?”

“Odd, like an incident last year, where you assaulted a student from your old high school. From what I’ve heard, you bodily picked up a boy named Percy West and tossed him across a room using only one hand. And from my information, Percy West has a sixty-pound weight advantage on you. Then you got an impressive grip around his neck, which he was unable to break.”

“Well, that really wasn’t a normal day around here,” I said nervously, “That was an anomaly.”

“And was it an anomaly last year, when your high school blew up on graduation day?” Agent Mulder asked, “The Sunnydale Fire Department declared the explosion to be a tragic accident, brought on by a gas leak, but a lot of things don’t add up. For instance, no one was inside the school at the time, yet the official town records declare that several people died in the explosion, including your high school principal, your town mayor, and at least one student.”

“Well, you know,” I said hesitantly, “When a building blows up, you’ve got windows. You’ve got shards of flying glass.”

“Yes, but that explanation would have a lot more credibility, if bodies had actually been recovered from the scene.”

“Bodies?” I asked.

“After I was done interviewing witnesses, I made some phone calls. I requested copies of the autopsy reports for Mayor Richard Wilkins, Principal R. Snyder and a high school senior named Harmony Kendall. I was informed that there were no autopsy reports, because no bodies had every been recovered. It’s almost like somebody stole the bodies in order to hide their true cause of death.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” I said sheepishly.

“Actually, Willow,” Agent Mulder said, “I think that you know a lot that you’re not telling me. I think that whenever something odd happens in this town, you’re somehow in the middle of it. And if you’re withholding information from the FBI, you could be charged with obstruction of justice.”

I took a sip of my coffee and wished that Agent Mulder would just go away and leave me alone, but when I looked up from my coffee, he was still there.

“Willow, I’m not asking you to incriminate yourself,” Agent Mulder said, “I just want more information about what happened on the UC Sunnydale campus today.”

I sighed heavily, and paused. When I finally replied, I said, “All I’ve really got are suspicions.”

“Fine,” Mulder said, his face suddenly looking more open and friendly, “Tell me about your suspicions.”

“If you put any of this into an official FBI report, it won’t do your career any good,” I warned him, “It’ll piss off your bosses, and all of the other FBI agents will laugh at you.”

Agent Mulder just shrugged at me and said, “I’m afraid that ship has already sailed.”

I could hardly believe it, but I was about to tell an FBI agent about some of the paranormal stuff that goes on in this crazy town. It seemed like a bad idea, but he was very persistent. And it sounded like he was applying pressure on me to talk. It sounded like he was going to investigate the explosion at my old high school if I didn’t cooperate.

So, I told him about the Gauntlets of the Huntsman. I told him about the Wild Hunt. I told him about Queen Mab, Queen Titania and King Dovregubben. I told him about glamours, and about my suspicions that the Gauntlets of the Huntsman might be in the package that the imposter Maggie Walsh wanted to get her hands on. I even told him about Ethan Rayne, and how he was probably in town, waiting to see how much chaos and death his little package caused.

Agent Mulder didn’t even blink. It was like he’d heard stories like this before.

“Alright, Miss Rosenberg,” Agent Mulder said, “Thank you for your cooperation. If you think of any other information that might help the FBI with this case, please give me a call.”

Then he handed me a card with his name and phone numbers printed on it.

* * * * * * * * * *

By the time I got home, Buffy had already finished with her errand to the campus Administration Building. Apparently, it had not gone well.

One sleeve had been torn off her shirt. Also, a huge chunk had been torn off the front of her shirt, and she had nasty-looking abrasions on her face and torso.

“Apparently, somebody else had the same idea Giles did,” Buffy said gloomily, “They showed up at the Administration Building about twenty seconds after I did.”

“Oh God,” I exclaimed looking at the injuries on my girlfriend’s face and body, “Are you alright? What happened?”

“Three really big, stupid bad guys showed up while I was looking for the package,” Buffy informed me, “They were kind of like the Incredible Hulk, only with fewer social skills.”

“Are they still out there?” I asked, “Are they going to come after you again?”

“I think two of them are dead,” Buffy replied, “I stabbed one of them with a wooden stake, and another might have gotten crushed when a wall collapsed and fell on him.”

“Wait,” I said somewhat taken aback, “A wall did what? I mean, how do you collapse the wall of a building?”

The Administration Building kind of got trashed,” Buffy elaborated, “I had to get out of there before Campus Security showed up. The third bad guy is still out there somewhere, but he’s wounded. I’m sure I’ll be able to take him next time.”

“Uh huh,” I said, sounding somewhat guarded and circumspect, “Well, let’s get you all taken care of first. You look pretty banged up.”

“I’m cool. I just got a little bruised,” Buffy said, “That’s about it.”

“Go look in the mirror,” I said, “You look a little worse than that.”

Buffy stepped into the bathroom and turned on the lights. I stood behind her and gazed into the mirror with her. Her hair was a shambles, she had cuts and abrasions and I could already see a large nasty bruise starting to blossom on the left side of her ribcage.

“Okay, so it was worse than I thought,” Buffy admitted.

“Get out of those clothes, and get into the shower,” I told Buffy, “I’m doing a healing spell on you.”

Buffy opened her mouth, and looked like she was going to protest, but she apparently changed her mind. Without saying another word, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the shower.

Barefoot and naked, Buffy stood in the bathtub and stared at me, expectantly. When I didn’t immediately make a move, she placed her hands on her hips and gave me an impatient look.

“Sorry, I was just admiring the view,” I explained.

I tore off all of my clothes and dropped them on the floor, next to Buffy’s. Then I turned on the water, and stepped into tub with my girlfriend.

No matter how many times I see Buffy naked, it never gets old. Her naked body is delicious. She’s lithe, graceful and well-built, with a landscape of perfect muscles, sheathed in smooth, flawless skin. She has a narrow waist, a flat belly, and legs like a professional dancer. Her breasts aren’t really large, but they’re firm and round and perfectly-shaped. Any woman would be proud to have breasts like Buffy’s. And in between her thighs, are the most adorable, pink pubic lips. And much to my delight, she shaves off her pubic hair every day, making it easy for me to gaze upon those perfect nether lips.

And then, Buffy gave me a wicked smile and asked, “Geez, Will, did you get me into the shower to heal my injuries, or to seduce me?”

“I can do both,” I said, flashing her a smile that I hoped looked just as adorable as the smile she was giving me.

I gave Buffy a gentle push to center her underneath the spray of water coming down from the showerhead. And then I held my hands out and cupped them, catching as much water as I could in my hands and then concentrated on the goddess Aceso. Her temples had all been destroyed centuries ago, however she still took pity on mortal beings that remembered and respected her, and let her healing magic flow into the hands of human vessels. 

I reverently whispered the words, "Salutaris Lacus," and then allowed the water in my hands to spill down onto Buffy’s head, her face and down her upper-body. Almost instantly I felt a powerful tingling sensation in my fingers and the palms of my hands, and Buffy smiled as the abrasions and other injuries just sort of faded and disappeared like a bad dream.

“Better?” I asked Buffy.

“Much better,” she replied, smiling, and then the next thing I knew, she took my head in her hands and she was kissing me. 

My body responded instantly to Buffy’s tender touch. I could feel a tingling between my legs and my heart pounded out a high-spirited, jubilant drumbeat, as I returned her passionate kiss and pulled her naked body closer to mine.

I moaned into Buffy’s mouth as her tongue caressed mine, creating more tingly feelings that began with my tongue, but traveled all down my body, making my pussy throb with hungry spasms, and stiffening my nipples into hard, swollen nubs.

In between passionate kisses, Buffy made sexy, panting, heavy breathing noises, I loved the sounds that she made. And then we were kissing again, and I felt her wicked tongue sliding teasingly over mine. 

At some point while we were kissing, one of Buffy’s hands drifted down and took hold of one of my buttocks. Her fingers gripped me, digging into my flesh intently enough to feel intimate, but not hard enough to hurt. I moaned even louder as she did that, and then her hand drifted up and down my buttocks, fondling them as the kissing became more passionate and my body temperature seemed to climb higher and higher.

Almost as if I were influenced by the power of suggestion, I grabbed one of Buffy’s buttocks. My fingers started at the back of her thigh and worked their way up to the firm flesh of her butt. Buffy’s butt was sculpted perfection. Her glutes were perfectly-shaped, hard, firm, lean muscle, sheathed in soft, flawless, touchable skin. Just touching them made my heart beat faster, and feel this delicious sort of excitement in my inner being. I held onto Buffy’s left buttock and allowed two of my longer fingers to probe into the tight furrow between Buffy’s sublime exquisite butt cheeks. Buffy squirmed and made a girlish noise of indignation when my fingers grazed the tender flesh of her anus.

Every noise she made was adorable. Every movement she made was erotic. I was enjoying her so much, I wanted this shower to go on forever.

Buffy’s hands moved slowly across my body, while we kissed, and at some point, she cupped one of my breasts and began to knead and caress it. I was enjoying the feeling of Buffy’s fingers on my bare breasts, and then her thumb began to rub itself methodically across my erect, swollen nipple. My poor nipple was already sensitive, and Buffy’s direct attention to my tender flesh caused me to moan in response. Then, Buffy clamped her mouth over mine again and attempted to stifle my moans by gagging me with her tongue.

I didn’t really notice when Buffy and I broke from our kiss, but at some point, our torsos were separated and Buffy took either of my nipples in her hands and began to roll my nipples between her thumbs and index fingers. The pressure and friction from Buffy’s loving fingers made my swollen nipples so distended and overstimulated that they ached, but it was a delicious sort of ache. It made me moan, and I arched my back, and thrust my chest out, encouraging Buffy to continue her efforts at arousing my nipples.

I felt exhilarated, and tingly. My libido had been inflamed, and every touch of Buffy’s lips, tongue or fingers seemed to spur my libido to even more wanton heights. I felt shamelessly sexual, and wanted Buffy to have her way with me and make me her naked, wanton bitch. I wanted her to access to all of my naughty bits and to arouse my passions, until my brain shut down completely and I was just a mindless, naked screaming creature of wanton, orgasmic pleasure.

“Oh, God, Buffy,” I panted as Buffy kneaded my breasts and played with my nipples, “Don’t stop. That feels so good.”

Buffy went on and on, arousing my nipples, inflaming them, eliciting tingly, naughty excitement from them. Her hands were magic on my naked flesh, and the tingly feeling in my nipples expanded across my naked body and inflamed the naughty, throbbing sensations in my loins as well.

My own hands moved without seeming to be connected to my brain. They grasped Buffy’s hips, or waist or buttocks, but I they seemed to move without any instructions from me. I was overwhelmed by the flood of sensations as Buffy fanned the flames of my sexual passions, and I seemed to do everything on impulse. The higher functions of my brain were mostly shut down at this point, and I was largely just responding to highly pleasurable, external stimuli.

“Oh, Uh, huhhh, Uhhh,” I said, making inarticulate vowel-sounds instead of words.

At some point, I found myself on my knees, with Buffy’s firm, perfectly sculpted thighs in front of me. I didn’t remember getting down on my knees, but there I was, with her beautiful thighs and her puffy, pink labia staring me right in the face. I placed two hands on Buffy’s left thigh and felt the smooth, flawless naked skin, and the hard muscles underneath. God, I loved her thighs. And then; without any conscious input from my brain; I found face against the bare flesh of Buffy’s naked thigh, planting loving kisses there. One kiss was followed by another, and then two more, and then I lost count. Buffy’s thighs were delicious, and then were a treat to touch, whether with my fingers or with my lips.

“Will, I don’t need you kissing my thighs,” Buffy said, her voice strained and barely audible, “I need you in between my thighs.”

Suddenly, I found myself holding Buffy’s buttocks in my hands and licking nectar off the delicate, pink petals of Buffy’s swollen sex. Her pubic lips had become unfurled and I licked at the delicate folds that had revealed themselves to me.

 

I dragged my tongue from the bottom of Buffy’s slit, all the way to the top, and was almost immediately rewarded with the sounds of lusty moaning and panting coming from Buffy’s lips. Then Buffy’s hips began to squirm and dance as I attempted to work my magic on Buffy’s sex with my tongue.

Buffy made a lot more vowel sounds as I worked my face into her crotch and probed her delicious sex with my tongue. I loved the taste of Buffy’s sex. I could taste it, even as I licked the outer-lips of her vulva. It was almost like butter, but more exotic somehow. And, after a healing spell, Buffy’s taste was somehow different than normal. It’s like the healing-waters spell made Buffy’s orgasmic juices taste better. She tasted heavenly, like liquid heaven on my tongue. 

Oh, I could lick Buffy for hours when she tasted like this.


	12. Everyone hates Ethan Rayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agent Scully is wounded, and Agent Mulder makes an alliance with Buffy and Willow.

My face was in between Buffy’s thighs, and she made happy, contented moaning and gasping sounds. I ran my tongue across the swollen, pink folds of her pubic lips, and savored the taste. I swear by Diana, there isn’t a woman alive who tastes better than Buffy. I mean…it’s not like I’ve stuck my tongue into a lot of women, but Buffy is a real nummy treat. She’s delicious.

 

And; not to brag; but Buffy loves it when I feast on her pink, delicious vulva. I kiss, I nibble, I engulf, and I drink the nectar that is secreted from her womanhood, and Buffy responds by spreading her legs wider and unashamedly offering herself up to me. 

“Oh, my God, Will,” Buffy gasped when her skin was feverishly hot, and her orgasm seemed imminent. Her hips lurched and quivered, and her pelvis thrust itself into my mouth and squirmed away several times, as Buffy seemed to completely lose control of her body from the waist down.

When the orgasm finally hit, Buffy utterly lost the ability to communicate verbally and was reduced to making vowel sounds as her sex spasmed and she panted uncontrollably, and her hips squirmed and her thighs trembled and shook in a really erotic, adorable sort of way.

The juices from Buffy’s sex flowed out of her in copious amounts, and I licked them up like a kitten licks up cream. Buffy continued to make vowel-sounds long after I had licked her vulva clean.

When next we kissed, Buffy could taste her own juices as her tongue probed my mouth. It seemed only fair to me that she got to sample the delicious sexy goodness that tasted of Buffy’s liquid orgasms.

My tongue mingled with hers as we kissed, and we both moaned into each other’s mouth. I pressed my naked body against hers, and her skin still felt feverishly hot. 

Her bare thighs pressed against my thighs, her bare breasts casually brushed against my breasts and the side of her face nuzzled against my face. Her skin was soft and smooth and hot, and I could still feel a sexual heat radiating from her naked body.

Her fingertips touched me everywhere as we kissed, and erotic tingles seemed to resonate across my body wherever her lips or fingertips contacted my skin. The effect of each touch was cumulative, making me feel more and more aroused.

“Lie down on your back, Will,” Buffy said when we both came up for air, “I wanna try something.”

Our shower was massive, with enough space for me to lie down and spread my arms and legs out. I didn’t know what Buffy had in mind, but I trusted her. I laid down on the floor, my body throbbing with anticipation, and waited to see what happened next.

Buffy worked the knobs of the shower, turned the water off, and laid down, face up with her butt near mine. It was awkward, the way we were positioned, but when Buffy explained what she was planning it started to make sense.

“Okay, have you ever heard of tribbing?” Buffy asked me.

I’d read about tribbing before, but I’d never tried it. I never even gave it much thought before Buffy asked me about it. However, with Buffy and I both naked, and our bodies close together, the word “tribbing” suddenly sounded phenomenally erotic and exciting.

“Spread your legs far apart,” Buffy instructed me, “If we’re going to position our naughty bits properly, we can’t have our legs getting in the way.”

Buff and I both spread our legs indecently far apart, with our legs partially outside of the confines of the shower, and we both raised our hips up, arching our pelvises several inches up above the shower floor.

It was almost like trying to fit two puzzle pieces together, as I maneuvered my hips forward and guided my vulva closer to Buffy’s. There was a magical feeling of erotic tingles as my swollen, hypersensitive pubic lips made blissful contact with that moist, magical place between Buffy’s thighs.

“Oh, God,” I gasped in a weak, girlish voice.

“Right there with ya, Will,” Buffy replied, and she began to gently rub the glistening, tumescent folds of her labia into mine. 

How many yummy nerve endings are in a woman’s labia? I didn’t know, but it felt like a lot. It felt like millions. As Buffy shifted her weight, and moved her hips this way and that, her pubic lips rubbed against mine, stimulating an entire symphony of delicious responses that began in my vulva and resonated across my entire body.

“Oh, God,” I exclaimed again. I apologize for not being very articulate, but very little blood was reaching my brain. My loins seemed to be monopolizing the blood supply. My swollen clitoris throbbed, and I could hear a throbbing in my ears that seemed to sync up with the throbbing in between my legs.

I felt millions of protracted shivers along my vulva, my thighs and my abdomen as the strength of the orgasm grew inside me. It was like a tidal wave building strength deep beneath the surface of the ocean, for hundreds and hundreds of miles before it even rose up and crashed into the shore.

My orgasm had been building even before my sensitive, swollen pubic lips had formed an intimate union with Buffy’s, however rubbing my sex against Buffy’s had dramatically increased the potency of my budding orgasm. When it came crashing to the shore, it was going to be overwhelming.

Buffy’s left thigh rubbed against my right thigh, and I could feel the feverish heat on her skin. My insides felt throbbing and magical. There was a potent energy deep inside of me, cycling, growing stronger, and then Buffy let out a fierce, feminine, wanton cry and shoved her beautiful pelvis into my vulva with a kind of erotic enthusiasm that almost overpowered me.

Then the tidal wave broke, and my legs gave out. My hips collapsed onto the smooth, acrylic surface of the floor, my naked butt bounced once or twice after it hit the slick, white shower floor, and I screamed and writhed as the orgasm took over and a rush of overwhelming endorphins flooded my naked body, and caused me to squirm in ecstasy.

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” I exclaimed weakly and I lay there, naked and panting, savoring the feelings of post-orgasmic bliss until I finally passed out.

* * * * *

It was hours later when I woke up. I was still naked, and still lying down, however I was no longer in the shower, and I was no longer wet. I was lying on my bed, dry and comfy, almost as if some very considerate person had toweled me dry and carried me from the shower and placed me gently in my bed. All the lights were turned off, and it was too dark to see, but I could still use my fingertips to explore the blankets and the pillow on the surface of my mattress.

I stretched my legs and reached out with my arms, feeling around with my fingers, hoping to locate Buffy somewhere, but I soon realized I was alone.

“Where’d she goes?” I asked the empty bed. The empty bed gave no reply, so I carefully raised myself up into a sitting position, and then into a standing position.

Buffy wasn’t in the bedroom, and when I checked the hallway, she wasn’t there either. 

Then, I went back to the bedroom, and grabbed a t-shirt and a pair of hip-hugger panties. Buffy and I didn’t live alone, and I didn’t want to accidentally run into Terri again while I was naked. She’d gotten to ogle my naked body too many times already. I wasn’t in a hurry to give her another opportunity to gawk at my naked butt.

After I was kinda dressed, I continued to search the house for my girlfriend.

“Buffy?” I called out, and eventually found her in the kitchen. She had a loaf of bread in front of her, a variety of sliced cheeses, sandwich meats and a plastic container of deli mustard.

“Hey, Will,” Buffy said, “You hungry?”

I hadn’t been thinking about anything as mundane as food until Buffy asked the question, but as soon as she asked it, my tummy began to rumble. When was the last time I had eaten? About ten hours ago? It only made sense that I’d be hungry at this point.

“Kinda,” I said, and Buffy made me a pastrami sandwich with mustard. 

I bit into it, and it was perfect. There was lots of pastrami, and just enough mustard to compliment the taste of the meat without overpowering it. My taste buds were in heaven. Buffy made a turkey and swiss sandwich for herself. For a while we just ate in silence, taking time to leisurely chew our food and savor the tastes. When you live in a town where you could be gruesomely murdered and dismembered without warning, you should really take the time to enjoy life’s little joys. The pastrami sandwich that you’re eating now, could be your last meal ever. Savor the flavor while you can. Tomorrow you might be dead.

“So, these gauntlets,” Buffy asked, “Any ideas?”

I licked mustard from my fingers and said, “I dunno. I kinda get the feeling that Ethan Rayne is playing another sick game with us, and he’s neglected to tell us what the rules are. I mean, even if we find them, is it a good idea to turn them over to Queen Titania? Is she any more trustworthy than Queen Mab or King Dovregubben?”

“That Ellis Island guy seems to think we can trust her,” Buffy said.

“Elisedd,” I said, correcting Buffy, “And he’s biased. He could be like those Republicans who said that Richard Nixon could be trusted, right before the Saturday Night Massacre.”

“The Saturday Night what?” Buffy asked.

“The Saturday Night Massacre,” I replied. Buffy just gave me a phenomenally blank look, and then I tried again.

“1973,” I said, “Richard Nixon ordered Attorney General Richardson to fire Independent Special Prosecutor Archibald Cox. Richardson refused and resigned in protest. Nixon then ordered Deputy Attorney General William Ruckelshaus to fire Cox. Ruckelshaus also refused, however, by making multiple attempts to fire the person who was investigating him, Nixon made himself look guilty as hell.”

“Was this before or after Nixon was impeached?” Buffy asked.

I sighed, and then in a clam, quiet and patient voice, I replied, “Before.”

I love Buffy. She a hero. She’s brave, athletic, resilient, strong, agile, and sexy as hell, but she was never very good when it came to history class.

“My point is, just because Elisedd trusts Queen Titania doesn’t mean we should. Maybe giving her a powerful weapon like the Wild Hunt will lead to millions of Sidhe getting killed. Maybe we can’t trust anybody with that kind of power.”

“So, what do we do?” Buffy asked me. “If we find the Gauntlets, do we not give them to Elisedd? Do we just keep them here in Sunnydale?”

“I haven’t figured that one out yet,” I responded honestly.

“You see, the way I see it,” Buffy ruminated, “the longer those Gauntlets are in Sunnydale, the more ogres, trolls, changelings, leprechauns, naiads and other Grimm Brother fairy-tale creatures we can expect to show up in our town. And things were bad enough on the Hellmouth when it was just vampires, werewolves and fear demons.”

“Yeah, obviously,” I said, agreeing with my girlfriend.

“So, maybe we should just give Gauntlets to the guy who will take them to Queen Titania,” Buffy said, “At least they’ll be out of Sunnydale, and fairy-tale creatures will stop showing up in our town, trying to sniff them out.”

I didn’t have a lot of time to formulate an answer to that, as there was a sudden, resounding clatter of someone or something smashing open the front door to our home.

This was really bad timing. All I was wearing was a t-shirt and a pair of panties. If a supernatural bad-guy is going to smash their way into your home, they should really wait until you’ve had a chance to put on some pants first.

There were no weapons nearby, so Buffy marched towards the sound of destruction and imminent violence, completely unarmed. It was a reckless move, but also brave and heroic.

This is what life is like when your girlfriend is the Slayer. She never runs from violence. She always runs towards it.

I’m not the Slayer. I suppose I could have run away, but I’m Buffy’s girlfriend, and I didn’t want to abandon her. I do know some spells, so I might be able to help. 

I was just a few steps behind Buffy and I saw what had smashed our door off its hinges just a few seconds after Buffy did.

Professor Walsh.

Well, that’s not quite accurate. What we were really looking at was a changeling, or some sort of Sidhe that had worked a glamour to look like Professor Walsh. I had spoken to Agent Scully of the FBI, and she assured me that the real Professor Walsh was currently locked up at the Chino Correctional Institute for Women.

“Give me the package,” the doppelganger said, using a voice that sounded eerily like Professor Walsh’s.

“Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin,” Buffy said, defiantly.

The doppelganger furrowed her brow in apparent confusion. I guess her parents didn’t read her bedtime stories when she was a little kid. 

“The package isn’t even here,” I said, standing a few feet behind Buffy, “And you’re not even Professor Walsh. You’re just using a glamour to mask your true face.”

“That’s probably true,” the Not-Walsh said, and then she reached into the interior of her blazer and pulled out a handgun. I wasn’t an expert on firearms, but this thing looked deadly to me, and then she pointed it directly at me.

“But, this handgun is very real, and if you don’t want to find out how real the pain is when a bullet shatters your kneecap, I suggest you turn over the package to me immediately.”

“And if you don’t want to be chopped up into little, bite-sized pieces,” Buffy countered, “You’ll stop pointing that thing at my girlfriend.”

“Ah, I see,” the Walsh-imposter said, “I had thought that Ms. Rosenberg was the adversary I had to contend with, however, it now looks like you’re the true threat here.”

Then, she pointed her weapon at Buffy and I had maybe half a second of warning before she pulled the trigger.

I threw my hands up in a mystical gesture, palms out, fingers splayed, and I shouted the words, “Protego mihi, bona Dea!”

A mystic barrier materialized at the exact same second that the imposter pulled the trigger on her weapon. The barrier was large enough to protect both Buffy and myself, and the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off my invisible barrier. I would have shouted in jubilant triumph, except I was in too much pain.

Even though none of the bullets hit me, my skull pounded like a little man was slamming it with a hammer. There was a brutal burst of pain from somewhere just behind my eyes every time a bullet slammed into my shield. The pain was so brutal, it was blurring my vision. If this sort of intense, punishing pain kept up, I wouldn't be able to maintain my shield for long... maybe a second or two.

I swear, when I read through that book on how to create mystic barriers, it never said anything about reflex sympathetic pain whenever my mystic barrier was assaulted. You’d think they would have mentioned an important detail like that.

The imposter’s handgun wasn’t a revolver, it was a semiautomatic. That meant she could fire round after round at us, much more quickly. The rapid fire gave me no time to recover, and within seconds the pain was too much, and I ended up passing out.

I’m not sure how long I was out, but the next time I opened my eyes, Daryl was there. I saw Daryl hit the Walsh-imposter in the face with a left jab, and then another left jab, and then she smashed the imposter in the face with a roundhouse kick. 

For a stripper, she had some awesome combat skills.

I must have passed out again, because the next time I opened my eyes, the imposter was gone, and Daryl was lying on the ground. She was still alive, however her blue jeans were soaked in blood, and there was a look of intense physical agony on her face.

The next time I opened my eyes, a paramedic was kneeling over me and asking me how many fingers he was holding up.

“Um, two?” 

Apparently, that was the right answer, however I still ended up being shoved into an ambulance. Apparently, an army of cops and EMTs had been called to the scene when neighbors reported hearing gunshots. I had been found on the ground, unconscious and with a copious amount of blood on my face. It seems that when the imposter assaulted my shield with multiple rounds of nine-millimeter ammunition, it inflicted some sort of damage to me physically and I got a really ugly nosebleed as a result. Also, I passed out. They were probably worried about the possibility of a concussion.

The EMTs had no idea what had happened to me, and Buffy didn’t want to tell them the truth, so she said that Professor Walsh had smashed me in the face with her handgun. It was a good story, so I decided to go along with it.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was lying in a hospital bed at Sunnydale Memorial. The pain in my head was gone, and I wondered if I had been given some sort of painkillers.

“I think she’s awake,” I heard a female voice say.

And then, the FBI agent with the red hair appeared at my bedside. Her voice was a lot kinder and gentler than it was the first time we met.

“Willow, it’s Agent Scully,” she said softly, “We met earlier today. Do you remember?”

“You were on my campus,” I replied, “You were asking questions about that woman who looked like Professor Walsh.”

“That’s right,” Agent Scully confirmed, “A number of witnesses are saying that the same woman who attacked Professor Arenholz at your school, also attacked you at your home. Can you tell me anything about that?”

Suddenly, I remembered Daryl on the ground, covered in blood. I’m guessing that she got shot, and I wondered if she was even still alive. Did she get killed, trying to protect Buffy and me?

My eyes widened at the thought, and I sat straight up in bed. 

“Daryl,” I exclaimed, and I tried to get up out of bed and go look for her, “She got shot.”

Agent Scully put a hand out to stop me and said, “I already checked on Miss Deardon. She was shot twice in the leg, but both bullets missed the femoral artery. Her doctors tell me that she’s going to make a full recovery. I need you to remain calm and tell me everything that you can remember.”

“She got shot trying to protect me and Buffy,” I said emphatically, as if that somehow changed everything.

“Willow, you and Daryl and Buffy are all safe now. The Sunnydale Police Department is working with the FBI and the California State Police to help catch this woman. And, there’s about a dozen cops outside that door keeping watch. And we can place Buffy, Daryl and you all in protective custody after you leave the hospital.”

I let some of the tension seep out of my body, and I laid back down.

“Okay,” I said.

“Now, what can you tell me about the woman who attacked you?” she asked.

“She had a handgun,” I started out, “Not a revolver, the other kind.”

“Uh huh,” Agent Scully responded, “We recovered that from the crime scene. We’re hoping to get some fingerprints off it. Anything else?”

“She looked like Professor Walsh, and she sounded like Professor Walsh,” I said, “but I think she was some kind of imposter.”

“Okay,” Agent Scully said patiently, “And why do you think that?”

“Okay, Professor Walsh is like fifty years old,” I said, “but the woman who attacked Professor Arenholz, Daryl and me, moves like a woman in peak physical condition. She moves like a nineteen-year-old athlete that’s spent her entire life training for the Olympics. Also, Buffy and I were in Professor Walsh’s class, and the woman who attacked me acted like she had never met me before today.”

“Uh huh,” Agent Scully said, and the look on her face seemed to indicate she still wanted more information from me.

“She said she was looking for a package,” I added, “She said it was mailed to the University, but for some reason, she thought I might have it at my house.”

“Do you have it at your house, Willow?” the FBI agent asked me.

“What?” I asked, surprised and somewhat offended by the question, “No! Why would I have it?”

“Well, if you don’t have it,” Agent Scully asked, “Do you at least have any idea what this imposter wants the package so badly? Do you have any idea what’s in it?”

My best guess was that the package contained the Gauntlets of the Huntsman, however, I really didn’t want to tell that to Agent Scully. Agent Scully was a real skeptic. She didn’t believe in things like ogres, banshees and fairies. If I told her that the package contained the Gauntlets of the Huntsman, she’d probably just get angry at me.

“Something valuable?” I ventured.

“Uh huh,” Agent Scully said, sounding unimpressed with my answer, “Well, we’ve got your house under surveillance, just in case she comes back. In the meantime, did this imposter say anything that might help us find her? Did she say where else she might look for this package? Did she say anything about any accomplices or allies she might have here in Sunnydale?”

Elisedd and Giles had both talked about agents from Queen Mab, Queen Titania and King Dovregubben all coming here in an attempt to grab the gauntlets before anyone else, however, I really didn’t think I should tell Agent Scully about that either. I didn’t think she’d take me seriously if I started talking about monarchs from the faerie courts. 

“It’s hard to remember,” I said, as I considered my words carefully, “But after she pistol-whipped me, I think she said something having to get the package before her rivals got it. I think there are other people in Sunnydale after the same thing she’s after.”

“Of course there are,” Agent Scully said, sounding bitter and disappointed. I couldn’t really blame her. Having more criminal-types in town after that package would mean more opportunities for shootings, assaults and other types of violence. It would mean Agent Scully’s job was going to be even harder than she originally thought.

She asked me some more questions, and I tried to answer them as best I could (without mentioning things like faeries, glamours or shape-shifters), but I don’t think I was very helpful. Agent Scully ended up looking very weary and disappointed by the time she was done questioning me.

“Okay, you try to get some sleep, Willow,” Agent Scully told me, “I’m going to go talk to your friends. Maybe they’ve got some information that can assist us on this case.”

* * * * *

I was in a cemetery. 

It looked spooky. It was late at night. It was dark and shadowy, and the only illumination I had was coming from the silvery full moon up above my head. 

It was weird, but I spent a lot of times in cemeteries since I’d met Buffy, and I’d gotten so I had memorized gravestones, statues, crypts and cemetery gates. I knew every cemetery in Sunnydale like the back of my hand, but this cemetery seemed totally unfamiliar.

I wandered around lost and confused, until I heard a familiar voice in the darkness say, “Hey, Red.”

I whipped my head around, and there was a familiar face to go along with the familiar voice.

“Faith,” I said, feeling more confused than ever, “What am I doing here? What is this place?”

“Not really sure why you’re here,” Faith replied, “But this place is called Saint Augustine Cemetery. I used to sneak off and go exploring here when I was a kid.”

“Okay, now I’m really confused,” I confessed.

Faith gave me an enigmatic smile and said, “It’s cool, Red. You’re in my dream.”

I was going to mention how confused I was, however, I had just said that. I didn’t feel like being repetitive, so I just kept my mouth shut, and gave Faith a dumbfounded look.

Faith seemed to sense that I needed more information than just a cryptic, declarative statement, and she began to elaborate.

“Ever since you helped me break into that guy’s house and we got those tats, I’ve sometimes ended up doing guest spots in your dreams,” Faith explained, “But, this is the first time you’ve ended up in one of mine.”

I needed a few seconds to absorb that information. In January, I had helped bring down a mystical barrier, so Faith could break into a spooky, old house on Franklin Boulevard in Cleveland. The magic I used to bring down the barrier had some long-term side effects. For starters, it left a tattoo on Buffy’s hand, Faith’s hand and my hand. And the tattoos seemed to link the three of us together somehow.

I was still figuring out the features of how we were linked together, but apparently one of the features was we could do guest spots in each other’s dreams.

“I’ve never noticed you in my dreams before,” I finally replied.

“Yeah, the last few times you and I were in a dream together, you were pretty distracted,” Faith explained, “I would have had to do some pretty extreme stuff to grab your attention.”

It occurred to me that I’d been having some pretty erotic dreams lately. Pretty much since the first night Buffy and I slept together, my dreams had been drifting in an NC-17 direction, with lots of nudity and graphic sexual situations. 

I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment, as I realized Faith must have seen me engaged in some very intimate and sexually explicit activities. 

“Oh God,” I exclaimed miserably.

“Geez, Red,” Faith said, with an amused smirk on her face, “If you can’t throw down with a hot babe in your own dreams where can you throw down? You don’t have to get all embarrassed about it.” 

“Look, I was raised by a Jewish mother,” I explained, “I got taught shame and guilt at a very early age. Being embarrassed it just a natural reflex at this point. I can’t help it.”

“Whatever,” Faith said, shrugging her shoulders and causing her ample cleavage to rise and fall in synchronization with her shoulders, “If you gotta blush, you gotta blush. So, what brings you into my dreams? Is this a social call, you need my help, or did you just wander in here by accident?”

I thought about Faith’s question for a few seconds, and finally replied, “A little bit of all three, I guess.”

Faith seemed to take a few moments to digest my words, and then she replied, “Okay, somewhere in there it sounded like you need help from Big Sis. What is it? Does Sunnydale have a new Big Bad?”

I sighed. Faith was pretty close to the mark. I mean…she didn’t hit a perfect bullseye, but she was pretty close.

“We’ve got chaos,” I replied, “A professional bad guy, named Ethan Rayne stole some magical gauntlets, and sent them to Sunnydale not long after he stole them. Nobody knows exactly where they are, but a bunch of heavy-hitters and sinister strangers have been coming to town looking for them. People are getting hurt, and it’s not going to stop until we figure out where the gauntlets are, and get them out of Sunnydale.”

 

“And you and B don’t know where these gauntlet-thingies are hidden?” Faith asked.

“Nope,” I replied.

“Seriously?” Faith asked, “Come on, Red! You’re supposed to be some sort of genius! You’ve got like a 140 IQ, and you haven’t figured it out?”

Actually, my IQ is 146, but this didn’t seem like the time to correct Faith’s math. She seemed to be hinting that she knew where Ethan had stashed the Gauntlets of the Huntsman, and that was a lot more important than establishing my IQ score.

“Buffy and I thought they might be in the Administration Building, on campus. But, Buffy went there, and she couldn’t find them.”

“Geez, Red,” Faith exclaimed, “You’ve dealt with Ethan before. Don’t you understand his deal yet?”

“Um,” I said numbly, not quite getting what Faith was driving at. Buffy and I had encountered Ethan before. He’d been to Sunnydale three times that I know of, but I couldn’t think of anything that we’d learned about him that would be helpful to figuring out our present situation.

“B told me what went down the last few times Ethan came to town,” Faith said, “Once you know the guy’s history, he's not all that hard to figure out. He’s kind of a one-trick pony.”

“I know his history,” I said, “The Mark of Eyghon, turning us all into our Halloween costumes, band candy that turned all the adults into irresponsible teenagers…I don’t see how any of that makes him predictable enough to know where he stashed the gauntlets.”

Faith rolled her eyes, and exclaimed, “Seriously?”

Faith gave me a few more seconds to see if I could figure it out for myself, and then she got tired of waiting, and then began to explain her theory to me.

 

“Okay, Red,” she began, “It's not like Ethan is a James Bond villain out to kill off the entire human race with a super-weapon, or a Dudley Do-Right villain out to terrorize the wealthy girly-girl into signing over the deed to her ranch. He’s a drama queen, out to make a scene and get G’s panties in a bunch.”

She paused, and then continued, “Our boy’s got issues with G. Every time he comes to Sunnydale, it’s not about money or world domination. It’s all about making a huge scene that makes things suck for G. It’s almost like Ethan is a crazy ex-girlfriend, who’s pissed off that G dumped her.”

 

I started to get it now. Ethan’s plan was Giles-centric.

 

“This was never about the gauntlets at all,” I said, “Ethan was just looking for a way to pull the rug out from under Giles. He wants Giles to freak.”

 

“He wants to do damage to G,” Faith confirmed, “There’s no way he’d stash his mystic do-dads on campus. G doesn’t work there, and when the screaming and terror and the bloodshed goes down, our drama-queen is gonna want G to be right there at ground-zero.”

 

“The gauntlets are at Giles’s apartment, aren’t they?” I asked.

 

“I knew you’d figure it out, Red,” Faith said, a huge smirk on her face, “being a genius and all.”

 

“I have to tell Giles,” I said, “Sooner or later the bad guys will figure it out, and bust down the front door to Giles’s apartment.”

 

“Either that,” Faith replied, “or Drama-Queen will send an anonymous message to the bad guys, telling them where to look.”

 

“Giles is in danger,” I said, and Faith nodded in agreement.

 

* * * * *

I woke up in the hospital. While I’d been sleeping, Buffy and Terri had shown up in my room. My head was feeling much better now. I’m not sure what sort of damage occurred when my mystic shield was hit with multiple rounds of nine-millimeter ammunition, but the damage was likely only temporary. I felt fine. 

“Buffy,” I said when I opened my eyes, and saw my girlfriend sitting across from me.

“Hey, Will,” Buffy said softly, “You feeling any better?”

“Much,” I replied, “I think I was just suffering from some sort of mystic reverberation. A small amount of the was impact was duplicated in my skull when those bullets smashed into my protective shield. Some spells have consequences like that, but I feel just fine now.”

Buffy looked over at Terri, and Terri just shrugged her shoulders and said, “I didn’t understand most of that, but my takeaway from this is that whatever happened to her earlier, she’s okay now.”

“Good,” Buffy replied.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I replied.

“And since you’re good,” Buffy said, “I might not have mentioned this before, but when you live with roommates, there are certain common sense rules you should follow, like before you invite a succubus to come live with you, you should talk to aforementioned roommates, and ask them how they feel about living with a succubus.”

I felt a chill permeate my body, and realized that Buffy must have found time to talk to Daryl while I was sleeping.

“Oops,” I said.

“Yeah,” Terri said, and then she added, “I’m still unclear on exactly what a succubus is. Could I get clarification on that before we go any further?”

“Okay,” Buffy said, “I mean Giles understands it better than I do, but a succubus is a sex-demon sort of creature, that feeds off of humans by having sex with them. I think there’s this sort of- “

And then I interrupted Buffy in mid-sentence and said, “Giles! Giles is in danger!”

“Wait! What?” Buffy replied.

“I figured out where the Gauntlets of the Huntsman are,” I said, “They’re in Giles’s apartment! And when the bad guys figure it out, Giles is gonna be in serious danger!”

Buffy and Terri both stared at me for a few seconds, looking perplexed and not saying anything.

“Will,” Buffy finally replied, “are you sure you don’t have a head injury? Because, as hiding places go- “

And then I interrupted Buffy again, and began to explain how it all made sense.

“Look, it was Ethan who sent the gauntlets to Sunnydale,” I explained hurriedly, “and Ethan has this really unhealthy obsession with Giles. Every time Ethan comes to town, his whole deal seems to be screw with Giles and turn his world upside down. When all three Faerie Courts have an epic battle, and kill each other over those gloves, Ethan will want Giles to have a front row seat for all the screaming and the bloodshed.”

“Oh hell,” Buffy said, after she had a few seconds to think it over. Then she turned to Terri and said, “I think she has a point.”

“We have to warn Giles,” I said, “The sooner he finds the Gauntlets, the sooner he can get them far away from here. I’m thinking somewhere in the Sonoran Desert might be a good place for them.”

It was a good plan; however, good plans don’t seem to last very long in Sunnydale. It’s like the Hellmouth has evil magics that follow Buffy and me around and sabotage good plans almost as soon as they come off the drawing board.

 

Agent Scully was suddenly in the doorway of my hospital room, along with a tall, slender, blonde woman. The blonde woman was dressed in the same sort of attire as Agent Scully, so I almost immediately assumed she was another FBI agent.

“We leave in five minutes,” Agent Scully announced, “Terri, you and Daryl will be leaving the hospital with Agent Mulder. Willow, you and Buffy will be leaving with Agent Stonecypher and I.”

Years of watching that TV show with Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. had totally screwed with my impression of what an FBI agent was supposed to look like. I had always pictured FBI agents as middle-aged men with square jaws, unimaginative haircuts and dead eyes. Agents Scully and Stonecypher were both female, both young and way more attractive than Agent Erskine and Agent Rhodes from that FBI TV show.

I didn’t mention any of this out loud. I just said, “Oh, I guess I’d better get dressed.”

* * *

The FBI agents and my roommates left the room, and I mulled over my problems while I got dressed.

I couldn’t really say anything about the Gauntlets of the Huntsman to Agent Scully or Agent Stonecypher, but now that I was in protective custody, I couldn’t just go and run over to Giles’s apartment to warn him. 

Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a banana phone right about now. Other students on campus owned banana phones. Why didn’t I have one? Why didn’t Buffy have one? If we survived this whole chaotic deal with the FBI and the Faerie Courts, Buffy and I were totally getting banana phones! This whole thing where I couldn’t communicate emergency information right away was for the birds. We needed cell phones.

As per the FBI’s plan, Daryl and Terri went with Agent Mulder. Buffy and I went with Agent Scully and Agent Stonecypher. 

Buffy and I sat in the backseat, while Agent Scully drove. Agent Stonecypher was in the front passenger seat, just in front of me. Neither woman seemed to be focused on Buffy or me, so I felt relatively safe discussing strategy with Buffy.

“So, what’s the plan?” I asked, “How are we going to warn Giles?”

“What?” Buffy shot back, “Why do I have to be the one who comes up with a plan? You’re the one with the genius IQ.”

“Yeah, but you’re the Slayer,” I countered, “That kinda means that that you’re the one in charge.”

“Oh, really,” Buffy asked argumentatively, “And yet it seemed so much like you were the one in charge of everything when you invited a succubus to come and live with us without consulting me! When were you even going to get around to telling me about that?”

“Are you still going on about that?” I complained, “How many times do I have to apologize?”

“Just once would be nice,” Buffy retorted.

Then Agent Scully swiveled her head around, glared at us and shouted, “Hey, I don’t know what’s got the two of you so bent out of shape, but I’d really appreciate it, if the two of you could postpone the shouting match until after- “

And, that’s when the whole world spun sideways.

Well, first there was a loud crash, and then the car lurched violently to the right, and I think my upper-body was thrown violently to the left.

There was the sound of shattering glass, squealing tires, and then there were two more loud crashes before the world stopped spinning.

“What the hell was that?” Buffy demanded, and I looked around to try and get some idea what had happened.

The front windshield was destroyed. Shards of broken glass were all over the place. Airbags had deployed up front and Agents Scully and Stonecypher were both wedged in tight between the bulging airbags and their seats. Neither one of them appeared to be conscious.

“I think another car crashed into us,” I replied.

Then I realized that there was another vehicle about ten feet away from the nose our car. It was a huge, commercial, diesel-engine truck. The truck wasn’t moving, but it’s engine was idling ear-splittingly loud.

Buffy pointed to the truck, and said, “I think they crashed into us, on purpose.”

Buffy’s opinion got some validation when the occupants of the truck stepped out. 

The first one was a menacing-looking bald woman, with impressive-looking biceps and an impressively-large sledgehammer hefted over her shoulder. Her t-shirt was tight and sleeveless, thus giving her an opportunity to show off her broad shoulders and deeply muscled arms.

As she advanced closer, I couldn’t help but notice, she had the most imposing muscles I’d even seen on a woman. And she stood about six-feet tall. She was very tall for a woman, and very powerfully-built. She looked like some sort of Olympic athlete.

Then the other person got out of the truck.

Suddenly the woman with the shaved head didn’t look so impressive anymore. The man who got out of the passenger-side of the truck was nearly seven feet tall, and so thick with slabs of muscle that he almost didn’t seem human. I’d seen bodybuilders before, but this guy made every bodybuilder I’d ever seen, look deficient by comparison. He had the sort of thick, dull slabs of muscle that come from endless physical labor. He didn’t bother wearing a shirt, and I doubt he could have found one in his size anyway. His shoulders were so broad, it was a miracle he was able to fit inside the cab of the truck.

He had a fierce, antagonistic look chiseled into his facial features, as he advanced towards our demolished car, and then I noticed something even more outlandish about his appearance.

He had tusks.

There were two of them. They grew out of his lower-jaw, they were curved and looked to be almost three-inches long. I don’t know what the hell this thing was, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t human.

“Get out of the car, Will,” Buffy said, “I don’t know who these guys are, but if we stay here, they’ve got us boxed in.”

I got out of the car, and my first instinct was to run and tell Giles what had happened. But, then I reconsidered. If I ran, Buffy was outnumbered two-to-one. And if I stayed I might be able to help. At the very least, I might be able to divert the attention of one of Buffy’s attackers, thus saving Buffy from having to fight both of the bad guys at the same time.

The guy with the tusks, seemed to be incapable of human speech. He just grunted and growled a lot. The woman with the sledgehammer was much more articulate.

“Hey, I don’t want to fight you,” I called out to the bald woman as she advanced upon me. I vigorously backed away from her, however, she had much longer legs than I did, so she didn’t really need to work hard to catch up with me. She just advanced on me at a healthy walking speed, and she closed the distance between us pretty rapidly with her long strides.

“There won’t be much in the way of fighting,” the bald woman assured me, “I’m a blood-drenched warrior with an unbroken string of sixty-five victories. In the arena, I could usually kill my opponents with just one blow to the head.”

I didn’t like the sound of that, so I just kept backing up.

When the FBI agent’s car got wrecked, one of the wheels got forced off the road, and onto the lawn of somebody’s home. As I backed away, I made my way across their lawn, and further away from Buffy. I dodged a few swipes of the warrior-woman’s hammer and thought about casting a shield spell, but the last time I had done that, the impacts to the shield had resonated inside my skull, and I ended up passing out. I really didn’t want to do that again. Passing out right now seemed like a really bad idea.

“You can’t back away from me forever, little red-headed courtesan,” the warrior woman taunted me, “This field is very small. What will you do when you reach its limit?”

She had a very good point. I couldn’t evade her forever, but I had no weapons, and no offensive spells. And my shield spell had a very huge drawback, so what was I going to do?

The bald woman was getting better at reading my moves, and she was altering her attacks to better counter my evasions. Her forward lunges were getting faster, and she was just barely missing her target. I needed to come up with a new strategy soon, or else she was going to crush my skull with that damn hammer of hers.

I was scared and desperate, and almost completely out of options, so I tried something that probably wouldn’t work. Of course, if I did nothing, I was going to die, so it was better to try something crazy and untested than to keep using the same ineffective evasion maneuvers…besides I was getting tired, and wouldn’t be able to keep dodging her attacks for much longer.

I took another step back from my muscular opponent, raised a shaky hand and shouted, "Effugio!" 

Instantly a portal opened up in the fabric of reality, directly in between me and my antagonist. I had no idea where the portal would lead, but wherever it led, it almost certainly would be far away from Sunnydale. The bald warrior woman lunged forward, with her hammer violently surging forwards at a death-dealing velocity.

She might have seen the trap I set for her, or she might not have, however, her forward momentum was such that it didn’t seem to matter either way. She basically lunged into the portal I had created, and then I shut the spell down before she had an opportunity to dart back out. With any luck, she was thousands of miles away.

“Woo-hoo,” I taunted the empty yard, as I did an improvised victory dance, “And the blood-drenched warrior gets her ass kicked by the little, red-headed courtesan!”

I would have enjoyed about five or ten minutes to savor my victory over a larger and stronger opponent, however a quick look out into the street revealed the sad news that my problems were not over.

Buffy’s massive opponent hadn’t been defeated yet, 

I saw Buffy kick her large opponent in the abdomen, then she hit him in the face with a powerful right jab. Buffy’s massive opponent was too slow to block any of her attacks, however he also seemed too resilient to be overcome by her rapid assault. From his reactions, it was almost as if he didn’t even feel any pain.

Then I saw Buffy catch him in the solar plexus with a front snap kick. It was a powerful kick, but Buffy’s foe barely even flinched at the blow. Immediately after she kicked him in the guts, she rammed her fist into his face with a powerful left jab.

The massive creature with the tusks was slow to counterattack, but when he did, his attacks were powerful. Buffy artfully ducked under his first blow, however, his second blow came in low and tagged Buffy on the chin.

It was an uppercut, and he must have hit her with superhuman strength. It hit Buffy with such an extraordinary amount of force, she was knocked into the air. Her body didn’t come crashing down until she had traveled about sixty feet through the air.

She landed on somebody’s lawn, just a few inches away from where I was standing. And I heard Buffy let out a pained grunt when she slammed back to Earth.

“Oh,” Buffy complained, “the bigger they are, the harder they hit.”

Just then I heard a sound behind me. An elderly-looking man with bifocals came out of the front door of the house. He was brandishing a walking cane, which he waved threateningly at Buffy and me and he yelled, “You damn kids! Get off my lawn!”

I swear, he actually said that. 

Then the massive thing with the tusks uprooted a no-parking sign, and began to menacingly advance on all three of us.

The man with the walking cane made a hasty retreat, disappearing back inside his house and slamming the door, loudly behind himself. Buffy got back on her feet and charged forward, towards the tusk-thing. Then she grappled with her large opponent before he had a chance to bludgeon Buffy with his street sign.

The two of them grappled with street sign. They both seemed to have a really strong grip, and neither seemed to be able to wrest it from the others grasp. From where I was standing, I could hear both Buffy and the tusk-thing grunting with effort.

I wasn’t sure what (if anything) I could do to help, but then aid came from a very unexpected quarter.

“Federal agent,” I heard a very commanding voice call out, “Drop your weapon!”

Apparently, Agent Mulder turned his car around and came back for us. He must have noticed when Agent Scully’s car was no longer behind him and got worried. He was standing in a firing stance, with a handgun pointed directly at the tusk-thing’s head.

The tusk-thing let out a disturbing sound that was somewhere between a bellow and a roar, and with one mighty effort, he finally wrested the street-sign away from Buffy’s grasp.

Then he charged forward, his focus now on Agent Mulder. As he rushed towards the federal agent, he brandished the street-sign like a club. Agent Mulder didn’t hesitate. He already had his weapon drawn and aimed, and when the tusk-thing charged at him, Agent Mulder fired three shots into the thing’s head.

Wow.

I’d never seen anyone shot in the head before, but there was a huge amount of blood when Agent Mulder shot the tusk-thing. It just sprayed everywhere. 

And then the tusk-thing fell to the ground with a thundering impact. It was almost the sound of a huge oak tree hitting the ground after being cut down by a lumberjack.

Agent Mulder remained in his firing stance for a few seconds after the tusk-thing hit the ground. It appeared as if her was hyperalert and scanning the street for new threats.

Then he glared at Buffy and me, and said, “Would somebody like to explain what the hell just happened here?”

“That guy drove his truck into Agent Scully’s car,” Buffy accused, as she pointed at the corpse of the tusk-thing.

Agent Mulder holstered his weapon, and then he asked, “Where are Agent Scully and Agent Stonecypher?”

Buffy pointed to Scully’s rental car. The federal agents were still behind the wheel of her vehicle, and hadn’t moved once since that truck crashed into the car. Agent Mulder rushed over to the car to see if the two FBI agents were alright.

“Scully,” he called out to his unconscious partner. 

“Mulder, what?” I heard Agent Scully mutter weakly. She was alive, but she sounded disoriented.

“You were in a car crash,” Agent Mulder explained, “I think you may have a concussion.”

Agent Mulder called for a tow-truck to take away Agent Scully’s wrecked car, and another tow truck to take away the vehicle that had slammed into her. He also called for an ambulance to take Agent Scully and Agent Stonecypher to the hospital. They’d both been knocked unconscious, and Mulder was worried that they both may have sustained serious head injuries.

Agent Mulder had also called for an ambulance to cart away the tusk-thing’s body, but by the time the ambulances had arrived, the corpse was gone.

“Will, did you do something to dispose of the body?” Buffy asked me, very discretely, when none of the federal agents were paying attention to us.

“I’m just as mystified by this as you are,” I confided to my girlfriend, “That guy must have weighed over four-hundred pounds. Something that big shouldn’t be able to just go poof.”

There was plenty of blood splatter staining the sidewalk and the curb, near were the tusk-thing had been shot, however his huge corpse was missing.

Agent Mulder argued very loudly with Agent Scully, Agent Stonecypher and the paramedics about the missing corpse. Eventually Buffy and I were called upon to bear witness to the fact that we had seen the corpse lying in the street as well.

“He was there,” Buffy insisted, “He was right there.”

“Well, where did he go?” Agent Scully demanded, but nobody had any answers for her.

I got the sense that the missing corpse was going to end up causing problems for Agent Mulder, but there was nothing I could do to help him. I was just as much in the dark as he was.

When the paramedics and the other federal agents were gone, Agent Mulder just stared at me, and said, “What aren’t you telling me, Willow?”

“Me?” I protested, “What makes you think I know anything?”

“This isn’t the first time something weird has happened in this town,” Agent Mulder accused, “When your high school blew up, there were corpses that went missing too. And about two years back your high school swim coach disappeared along with about half the swim team.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. All of the things Agent Mulder was saying were true, but they were also things that most of the residents of Sunnydale were willing to overlook. I suppose the major problem here was that Agent Mulder wasn’t from Sunnydale.

“Why are you harassing Willow?” Buffy testily inquired of Agent Mulder, “That guy you shot had to weigh four-hundred pounds or more. Willow weighs one-hundred-and-seventeen pounds when she’s soaking wet. There’s no way she could have moved the body.”

“Miss Summers, this isn’t harassment,” Agent Mulder said defiantly, with his hands resting on his hips, “Willow has already told me about Ethan Rayne, and the Gauntlets of the Huntsman. I’m not really sure what those gauntlets are, or why they’re so valuable, but I think it’s a pretty safe bet the two of you were attacked because of them.”

Then, Buffy gave me an accusatory glare and said, “You told him about Ethan Rayne?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I responded, “Besides, it could be to our advantage to have a friend at the FBI. He was a big help when that tusk-thing attacked you with a No-Parking sign.”

Buffy took a few seconds to think about that. I could nearly hear the wheels turning in her head as she considered my argument.

“Miss Summers,” Agent Mulder broke in, “I can understand how you might think Miss Rosenburg violated a confidence, however, she did the right thing by confiding in me. I can help you. I’ve been with the FBI for thirteen years. I’ve got the training and the experience. Whatever it is that you and Willow are afraid of, I can handle it.”

“No, Agent Mulder,” Buffy replied sternly, “You can’t.”

“What?” Agent Mulder exclaimed, sounding offended, “Didn’t you hear anything I just said?”

“Yeah, I heard,” Buffy responded argumentatively, “You’ve got your gun, and your badge, and your thirteen years of casework with the FBI, and you think Sunnydale is just another town, just another place to shoot the bad guys, make some arrests, and everything will be just fine and dandy.”

“What about that guy that was going to bludgeon you with the street sign?” Agent Mulder demanded, “Are you saying I wasn’t able to handle him?”

Buffy took a deep breath, and visibly calmed down somewhat. She seemed less combative when she spoke next.

“Actually, you were a really big help with that guy,” Buffy conceded, “And I’m really grateful that you showed up, and blew a big hole in his head, but you’re just a tourist here. I live in this town! I’ve seen things in this town that you could pump a dozen rounds of ammo into, and it’d just make them angry! This is the Hellmouth! Do you have any idea what that means?”

Agent Mulder didn’t have a ready response for that. He just looked over at me, as if he expected me to help him.

“The town was built on a semi-stable barrier, between our world and a hell dimension,” I explained, “That makes this area a magnet for demons, vampires, and other very dangerous things that are very hard to kill.”

“Things that your FBI training didn’t cover,” Buffy added.

“So, you think you should just withhold information from me?” Agent Mulder asked, “Look I might not live in this town, but I’ve dealt with paranormal things before, and I have a history of thinking outside the box. My superiors at the FBI hate me for that. Take me into your confidence, and I promise I’ll find a way to help.”

* * *

Buffy didn’t like the idea of confiding in an FBI agent, but Agent Mulder was an excellent debater, and eventually he wore down Buffy’s resistance, and Buffy started telling him everything.

Instead of taking us to the safehouse, Agent Mulder took Buffy and me to Giles’s apartment. 

“Ethan Rayne gets a perverse thrill out of making trouble for Giles,” Buffy explained from the back seat, as Agent Mulder drove, “Every time he comes to town, it’s all like drama, drama, drama, and Giles is always Ethan’s main target.”

 

“It would be just Ethan’s style to break into Giles’s house and then hide the gauntlets there,” I added.

 

“The bad guys are willing to perpetrate all kinds of murder and property damage to get those damn things,” Buffy continued, “If they break into Giles’s house, his place will be destroyed, and Giles could end up dead.”

“And, what if they’re not there?” Agent Mulder asked, “What’s your backup plan?”

“Oh, they’ll be there,” I insisted.

* * *

We got to Giles’s apartment, and Buffy and I came charging in at heroic speed. I had a pretty good idea where Ethan would have hidden the gauntlets, and figured I’d grab them as quickly as I could.

 

“Hey,” Agent Mulder yelled from behind me as I rushed past Giles and Elisedd. I stopped in mid-stride and looked back, eyes questioning.

 

“Do you always come barging into other people’s homes without knocking?” Agent Mulder asked.

“As a matter of fact, she does. It’s one of her least endearing habits,” Giles said to Agent Mulder, and then he added, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI,” Mulder replied, holding up a flip wallet with his FBI badge and ID, “Sir, is this your apartment?”

“Yes, it is,” Giles said, sounding somewhat rigid and confused, “I’m sorry, FBI? What would the federal bureau of investigation want with me?”

“The FBI has reason to believe that there may be stolen property somewhere in this apartment,” Mulder said in that dispassionate tone he has, “We have reason to believe that it was planted by an individual by the name of Ethan Rayne.”

“Ethan Rayne?” Giles asked, suddenly looking much more relaxed, “Is the FBI interested in arresting him?”

I could hear the hopeful optimism in Giles’s voice and I saw Buffy smirk. Giles would be about as happy as a little kid on a shopping spree to Toys R Us, if the feds arrested Ethan.

“Not at this time,” Agent Mulder replied, “however, our investigation is ongoing. Depending on what evidence the FBI uncovers, the FBI might become very interested in arresting him.”

“I think Ethan might have stashed the Gauntlets of the Huntsman here,” I told Giles excitedly, “I’ll just go upstairs and check your bedroom.”

“In my apartment?” Giles inquired, “Why on Earth would Ethan hide the Gauntlets- “Giles began, but then he froze in mid-sentence.

“Actually, that is exactly the sort of thing Ethan would do,” Giles declared with conviction, “He’s trying to create more chaos in my life.”

“I should go up and help her search,” Elisedd suggested, but Giles rejected that idea. He told me to go upstairs and search for the Gauntlets, and he told Elisedd to stay downstairs with Buffy and Agent Mulder.

My heart was beating faster as I stepped into Giles’s room. I was on the verge of having the Gauntlets in my hands, and it seemed like every bad guy in town wanted them. Once I had them in my hands, how long would it be before one of them jumped me?

As I suspected, the Gauntlets were tucked in between the first and second mattresses of Giles’s bed. They were hidden well enough that Giles wouldn’t have spotted them in the normal course of events, but if bad guys searched the place, they would have found them quickly.

I held the gloves up and examined them closely. They were large, made of very high-quality leather, and they looked very old. They reminded me a lot of falconer’s gloves.

They didn’t immediately seem magical, however some magical items kept their power hidden, and remained dormant until they were exposed to proper environment. Maybe these Gauntlets needed something or someone special to trigger them.

“I found ‘em,” I announced triumphantly, and held the Gauntlets up high, as I came down the stairs, “At least I think these are them. I’m not picking up any strong mystical aura, but they were hidden in Giles’s bed, so what else could they be?”

“Ethan stole those from my queen,” Elisedd interjected passionately, “They must be returned to her as quickly as possible.”

“This is Elisedd,” Giles explained, “An agent of Queen Titania.”

“Queen Titania,” Mulder said, “Like the Titania from William Shakespeare's play A Midsummer Night's Dream?”

Elisedd let out a noise somewhere between a grunt and a sigh and said, “William Shakespeare knew very little about Queen Titania, or the people she rules over. If all you know about her, is what William Shakespeare wrote, then you know nothing.”

“I apologize for my lack of knowledge,” Mulder replied, “However, before the FBI can turn these over to anyone, we have to establish proof of ownership. And we haven’t done that yet.”

“If Titania’s rivals take possession of the Gauntlets of the Huntsman, it could mean the deaths of millions,” Elisedd warned passionately, “You look at that girl-child, and your eyes see her holding two leather gloves, however, what she’s truly holding is a weapon far more deadly than any siege weapon.”

“If that’s the case, than it’s the FBI’s responsibility to make sure the gauntlets don’t fall into the wrong hands,” Mulder said dispassionately, “The FBI takes a dim view of dangerous people getting their hands on deadly weapons.”

Mulder’s voice was devoid of emotion, however I somehow got the idea that he didn’t trust Elisedd. It was like he thought Elisedd was dangerous, and thought that Elisedd might end up committing horrible crimes if he got his hands on the Gauntlets.

“I’m going to take the Gauntlets someplace safe,” Agent Mulder assured everyone in the room, “When this is all over, they’ll be turned over to their rightful owner.”

I noticed that Agent Mulder didn’t identify Queen Titania (or any of her agents) as the proper owner of the Gauntlets, but I kept my mouth shut about that. Things in Sunnydale had been volatile enough. I didn’t want to make things even worse, by inciting Elisedd into more anger or panic.

“If the Gauntlets are not returned to their rightful owner,” Elisedd insisted, “It will mean war between the Court of Queen Titania and the FBI.”

“Elisedd, no,” Giles snapped, “Don’t be stupid!”

“Mister Elisedd,” Mulder said calmly as he turned and looked Elisedd directly in the eye, “threatening a U.S. government official is a federal offence. You could be arrested for what you just said. Did you know that?”

“And as a guest in my home,” Giles said angrily, “You are bound by certain Sidhe protocols and traditions. As long as you are a guest in my home, you cannot offer violence to myself, or to anyone I allow into my home.”

“And I’m pretty sure that threatening to go to war, counts as offering violence,” Buffy added.

Elisedd seemed at a loss for words for several seconds. I’m not sure if it was Agent Mulder or Giles who had had the larger impact on his mindset, however, he eventually decided to back down.

“Special Agent Mulder, I withdraw my threat,” Elisedd said at last, “I was being rash and passionate, and I made a poor choice. I hope that you will accept my apology.”

Agent Mulder’s mask of stony-eyed emotional detachment cracked just a bit. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and his eyebrows went up about a sixteenth of an inch. In his thirteen years at the FBI, he had probably never had someone give him such a polished and sincere-sounding apology just moments after threatening him.

“Okay,” Agent Mulder replied, with as much emotional inflection in his voice as a HAL 900 computer, “Apology accepted. I’m glad we got that settled.”

“Where do you intend to keep the Gauntlets, in the meantime,” Giles asked, “while you are trying to determine their rightful owner?”

“There’s a high security building in Southern California the FBI sometimes uses for securing evidence, or items of high value,” Mulder replied, “The gauntlets should be safe there. I prefer not to divulge the building’s exact location.”

“I can see the logic in that,” Giles replied, “The fewer people that know where the Gauntlets are going, the less chance of one of our enemies breaking in and stealing them.”

Mulder nodded his head in seeming agreement and then said, “Miss Rosenberg, I’ll take those now.”

Things seemed to be going a little too easy. I mean, this is the Hellmouth. In this town, just when everything seems to be going fine, one of your best friends turns into a werewolf and tries to eat you or something. I braced myself for something terrifying, and handed the Gauntlets over to Agent Mulder.

And then I waited.

Agent Mulder placed the Gauntlets underneath his left arm and said, “Miss Rosenberg, you and Miss Summers should be safe here for the time being. I’m going to make sure these are safe, and then I’ll come back for you right afterwards.”

It looked like nothing terrible was going to happen after all. I let some of the tension drain out of my body, and started to get optimistic about this Gauntlets thing. It looked like we were going to end this situation without a lot of drama.

So, Agent Mulder opened the door to Giles’s apartment, and started to leave, and of course, all hell broke loose.

Something very large and fast-moving slammed Agent Mulder in the chest almost as soon as the door was opened. The thing that slammed into him had large and multi-segmented antennae growing out of its hideous head, and massive mandibles instead of a mouth. It had dozens of legs, and its entire body was armored with a segmented exoskeleton that resembled plates of polished bronze. Its eyes were black and resembled polished glass.

It took a split second for this thing to knock Agent Mulder to the ground, and trap him under its weight. Its mandibles clacked loud and threateningly, and I could see Agent Mulder struggling to reach for his gun. Those mandibles had serrated edges and looked like they could cut through human flesh quite easily.

“Scuttleomorph,” shouted Elisedd and produced his pistol crossbow from nowhere. One second he was unarmed, and the next second his pistol crossbow was in his hand, loaded and pointed at the centipede thing that was attacking Agent Mulder.

He fired a crossbow bolt at the creature, however the thing had an exoskeleton that wasn’t easy to penetrate. Elisedd’s crossbow bolt bounced off without doing any damage.

“Weapons,” Buffy called out, and Giles acted without hesitation. He popped open a secret compartment, concealed in his bookcase and pulled out a battle axe. He tossed the axe to Buffy, and Buffy caught it gracefully, and sprang into action.

The centipede-thing was far too fast and graceful for something that large and armor-plated. This thing moved like a Black-Mamba, and when Buffy tried to chop it open with her battle axe, it swerved out of the way with astounding swiftness and agility.

Within seconds, both Buffy and Giles had the thing flanked, with Buffy on one side, Giles on the other. They were both armed, and they had it outnumbered, but it moved with frightening speed, and ran deeper into the apartment, knocking down both Buffy and Giles as it flicked its long tail-like body and galloped away.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me,” Agent Mulder shouted, sounding both incredulous and disgusted at the sight of the giant centipede thing.

He aimed his handgun at the thing and fired off two shots, but they both missed. The thing kept moving inhumanly fast, and it didn’t move in any predictable pattern. It twisted, swerved, swished and darted in ways that didn’t make any sense.

Agent Mulder fired off a third shot, with surprising results. He completely missed the creature’s large, armored body, but hit one of its long antennae. 

Getting its antennae cut off apparently outraged the creature. It raised its upper-body up off the ground and let out an evil shriek, like a million angry cicadas all buzzing at the same time. And then, it focused its rage on Mulder. Mulder aimed his weapon at the creature and prepared to fire another shot, however Buffy took advantage of the fact that the creature was distracted and hurled her battle axe at the creature’s face.

There was a loud Ka-chunk as the blade of the battle axe sank deep into the creature’s face and destroyed one of its eyes. There was an explosion of some sort of black, oily liquid when the centipede-thing’s eye was destroyed, and it got all over the two people, standing closest to it.

“Well, that was just gross,” I complained, trying to wipe the black, oily goo off my face and out of my hair.

“This town is really starting to get to me,” Agent Mulder complained, keeping his handgun trained on the centipede thing, apparently not trusting that it was really dead.

“Elisedd, what was that thing?” Asked Giles.

“Scuttleomorph,” Elisedd explained, “They’re very nearly brainless, however, if you raise them from a larva, they can be trained to do simple tasks, such as attack your foes, or to guard treasure.”

“Really?” Agent Mulder asked, his weapon still drawn, “And who trains them?”

“There are any number of trusted individuals in the faerie realms that specialize in such things,” Elisedd replied, “Some can be found in the Court of Queen Titania, other’s in the Court of Queen Mab. Even King Dovregubben has- “

In mid-sentence, Elisedd realized the significance of Agent Mulder’s question. If this thing was an attack dog, sent to attack us, it’s trainer would probably be very nearby. 

Giles also figured it out and said, “Bloody hell! The trainer!”

“Most likely right outside,” Mulder responded in agreement.

Elisedd sprinted towards the front door, with Mulder and Giles close on his heels. The three men in front of me obscured my view of what was ahead of them, and I strained my neck to get a look at what was outside.

It was not good.

In Sunnydale, you get used to seeing weird things, however, this was weirder than normal weird. The woman who looked like Professor Walsh was there, however, she was almost hidden in the back of her scary-looking friends. 

 

The scary-looking antagonists that were closest to the door looked very goat-like. I mean, they were bipeds, and they stood upright, and they were all about my height, so I guess you could say they were humanoid, however, they were humanoid with a strong goat influence. Their bodies were covered in short, white fur, they had hooved feet, tightly-curled horns coming out of their skull and goat-like ears. Four of them were naked, however there were two that wore leather loincloths and leather belts. They were all carrying primitive weapons, like sledge hammers, clubs or staffs. 

Behind them were creatures that were very bull-like. That is, they had had humanoid bodies, although they were covered in short, creamy, white hair, had hooved feet and heads like they came off of some very angry Charolais bulls. The bull-like creatures were much taller than the goat-things. I would say somewhere between seven and eight feet tall. And to make matters even worse, the bull things were all carrying primitive weapons that looked like spears or javelins.

The Walsh-imposter was standing in the back, behind these scary-looking foes.

“Elisedd,” the Walsh-imposter called out, “I had no idea I would find you here.”

“Have we met?” Elisedd replied, “I do not recognize you.”

There was a short burst of laughter, and then the Walsh-thing said, “We met two scores years ago in the Great Hall of the Summer Court. When Lady Agrona came to negotiate a peace between the Summer and the Winter Kingdoms, I was Agrona’s loyal assistant.”

There was a pause, and then Elisedd called out, “Anexeana?”

“Ah, you do remember me,” the Walsh-thing said, sounding quite pleased with herself.

“You looked far more attractive when you came to court,” Elisedd replied, “A number of courtiers were quite smitten with you. I myself, was very nearly intoxicated by your sublime beauty. You were a captivating delight once. What a pity that your visual appeal has faded.”

I was standing near Agent Mulder and Giles while all this was going on, and I heard Mulder turn to Giles and whisper, “Seriously? She tries to kill us, and now he’s flirting with her?”

“Oh, I am still an exceptional beauty,” the Walsh imposter insisted, “However, my true visage is currently hidden by a glamour. I had been advised that I would be more accepted by the humans if I took on this appearance.”

“You were given bad advice,” Mulder shouted out to her, “You’ve taken on the appearance of a nefarious criminal. By wearing that face, you’ve called the worst sort of attention to yourself.”

“So it would seem,” the Walsh imposter called back, “however, this is a Geas Glamour, and the magic that stuck me with this face will not fade until I deliver the Gauntlets of the Huntsman to Queen Mab.”

Then Buffy pushed her way past Giles and me, and addressed the imposter, saying, “Gee, that’s too bad. I guess you’re stuck with that face forever.”

One of the bull-things snorted in what might have been amusement, and then Anexeana took a few steps closer to Buffy, and said, “Ah, this must be the right place. It’s the college student who foiled Dovregubben’s thugs when they attempted to steal the Gauntlets from the Administration Building.”

“I’m the Slayer,” Buffy said defiantly, “I protect the people of this town. And when strangers come into my town, and start endangering my people, they usually end up dismembered. You should return home, while you still can.”

“The Slayer,” Anexeana said melodramatically, “So, you’re this town’s champion.”

“That’s right,” Buffy said gravely.

“I had always assumed that you would be taller,” Anexeana said disdainfully.

“I was tall enough to kill Olvikan,” Buffy countered, “and he was about eighty times bigger than you. You should really go home before I get cranky.”

“Oh yes, Olvikan,” Anexeana replied, “the snake demon. I was led to understand you used trickery against him.”

“I won, he lost,” Buffy insisted, “The methods I used aren’t important. Get into it with me, you’ll end up just as dead as the snake demon.”

“Little-girl, I am Sidhe,” Anexeana said arrogantly, “My kind had mastered the art of pretense, trickery and deceit while your kind was still in the process of creating a written language. You will not take me unawares the same way you took a dull-witted snake demon.”  
“You’re on my turf,” Buffy warned, “and I’m starting to get cranky.”

“You are outnumbered, Slayer,” Anexeana said firmly, “And I will not leave this town until I have what I came for. Hinder me, and I will kill everyone you care about. And then, I will have Fathach crush your skull.”

Apparently Fathach was one of her half-man, half-bull things. At the mention of the name Fathach, one of them lifted his spear up into the air, and made a sound that was sort of halfway between a bellow and a howl.

“Gee, if that’s the way you feel about it,” Buffy said sounding sheepish and non-threatening, and then she held up the Gauntlets that she had been concealing somewhere, and continued, “I guess Fathach will have to die first.”

Buffy slipped the Gauntlets of the Huntsman onto her hands before anyone had a chance to stop her. I felt a sense of panic as soon as I realized what she was about to do. The Gauntlets of the Huntsman is one of those truly powerful magical items that can do a lot of damage to the people who try to use them. I’ve read up on mystical items like this, and if you’re not strong enough to handle it, you can be driven permanently insane, or maybe something even worse. 

There’s an ancient and mystical sword that was unearthed in an archeological dig in Ireland about a hundred years ago. Mystic scholars have dubbed it as the Sword of the Mórrígan, and everyone who has tried to pick it up with their bare hands has ended up dead. Three of them were young men that died when they aged approximately eighty years in the span of a few seconds. Then there was a mystic scholar who picked up the sword, and suddenly began to bleed for scores of lacerations and deep puncture wounds that sprang up spontaneously all over his body.

The Gauntlets of the Huntsman were rumored to be even more ancient and more powerful than the Sword of the Mórrígan. I was almost certain that placing those Gauntlets on her hands would kill Buffy instantly.

They didn’t.

Instead, they caused Buffy to change. My girlfriend changed from a beautiful woman that was a few inches shorter than me, and dressed in blue jeans and a t-shirt, into a frightening humanoid creature that was more than eight-feet tall and, had shoulders more than three-feet wide and wore a chainmail shirt over close-fitting leathers. It wore a bucker-shaped helmet that covered most of its face, and the slit in the helmet’s visor revealed eyes that glowed like red-hot coals. And the horns of an enormous stag rose up out of the helmet, making the menacing creature look even taller.

Then the massive, humanoid creature reached for the weapon’s belt on her hip, and drew a black sword from its scabbard, and a voice came out from somewhere near the vicinity of the huntsman’s helmet, and it said, “You assumed that I would be taller?” 

“It’s not possible,” Anexeana protested loudly, “Buffy Summers is human! The lord of the Wild Hunt is a creature of the faerie! No mere human can be the lord of the Wild Hunt!”

“The lord of the Wild Hunt is a predator,” came back the response from the massive creature with the enormous sword, “and Buffy Summers has slain more prey in three years, than most Sidhe slay in three decades.”

What happened next, happened so quickly it didn’t even seem real. There was a blur of motion, and Agent Mulder was knocked off his feet. Elisedd, and several of those goat-creatures were knocked off their feet as well. And when it was all over, the man-bull creature was lying dead on the ground, his head was lying on the ground several feet away from his body. There was blood splatter everywhere, and the lord of the Wild Hunt was holding a blood-stained sword and standing over the bull-creature’s corpse.

She decapitated that massive man-bull creature in the blink of an eye, and I didn’t even see her move.

“What did I say?” the lord of the Wild Hunt demanded of Anexeana, as she pointed the tip of her blade at Anexeana’s throat, “I told you, you should leave town before I get cranky.”

“Buffy?” I asked. The voice that came from the lord of the Wild Hunt sounded sort of like Buffy, but it sounded deeper, stronger, and thrumming with mystic power.

The lord of the Wild Hunt looked over her shoulder and gave me a look. Her eyes looked like red-hot burning coals, yet somehow those red-hot burning coals somehow managed to convey a look of confusion.

“Yes, I am Buffy,” the lord of the Wild Hunt said, and then she amended that with, “No, I can’t be. I am the lord of the Wild Hunt. I was ancient, long before Buffy Summers was ever born.”

“It’s the Gauntlets of the Huntsman,” Elisedd insisted, “When Buffy Summers placed them on her hands, her body, her personality, everything that was Buffy merged with the mantle of the lord of the Wild Hunt. As long as they’re merged, both Buffy Summers and the lord of the Wild Hunt will exist within the same body.”

“For the time being, this is my town,” the lord of the Wild Hunt insisted, “The people who live here are under my protection. I will kill anyone who tries to hurt my people.”

Then she turned to the Walsh-imposter and said, “Shall I kill you now, Anexeana? You threatened to kill my people. Should I not kill you for that?”

“No! Wait,” Anexeana shouted, “You need me alive! I can be useful! I have information! There are others in Sunnydale who are a greater threat to your people than I ever was! I can tell you where to find them!”

“You would use this information to bargain for your life?” the lord of the Wild Hunt asked.

“According to my spies, King Dovregubben has sent reinforcements to this town,” Anexeana insisted, “Scores of troops, enough to overwhelm my own people! That is why I was so quick to launch an assault on this place! I had been told the Gauntlets were here, and I needed to claim the Gauntlets first, before Dovregubben’s troops had a chance to launch an attack and grab the Gauntlets for themselves.”

“Dovregubben would likely send trolls,” Giles warned, “Scores of trolls in Sunnydale could cause a great deal of bloodshed and property damage.”

“One troll in a city populated by humans, could kill hundreds before he’s stopped,” Anexeana said, “Scores of trolls could destroy the entire town. I can lead you straight to them, before they have a chance to get started. You could stage an ambush.”

“I still do not trust you, Anexeana,” the Lord of the Wild Hunt said, “but lead me to where I can find Dovregubben’s ruffians, and assist me in destroying them, and I will allow you to return home with your head still attached to your body.”

Buffy being merged with the lord of the Wild Hunt made a huge difference. When Buffy was just regular Buffy, Anexeana seemed to only have contempt for her, however, now that Buffy was the lord of the Wild Hunt, Anexeana was filled with both fear and respect. She agreed with Buffy’s terms and agreed to take Buffy to where Dovregubben’s troops were, in exchange for her life.

Then Buffy turned to Agent Mulder, Elisedd, Giles and me, and said, “Sir Fox, Sir Elisedd, Sir Rupert and Lady Willow, the four of you are predators! Join the Wild Hunt and ride with me! We shall slay our foes together!”

I stared at my girlfriend (who was now more than eight-feet tall) with my emotions in a turmoil of confusion, pride and fear. Buffy seemed so much more powerful now, but what else was she? And why did she call me a predator? I was a college freshman with a 146 IQ, and no criminal record! I was friendly, polite and amicable!

“What? I’m not a predator,” I protested, “I’ve never preyed on anyone! I’m one of the least predatory people I know!”

“Are you truly?” the Wild Hunt Buffy asked me, and then she pointed one massive finger in the general direction of my face. Suddenly memories sprang up in my head. The memories seemed random at first, but I soon detected a very identifiable theme.

The first memory was when I used a levitation spell to float a pencil, and used it to stake a vampire right through the heart.

The second memory was when I used a sunlight spell to rip a hole in the fabric of reality on Thanksgiving night and let in enough sunlight to cause a vampire to burst into flames.

The other memories were all like that. They were all memories of when I used magic to kill vampires, or other beings that were a threat. I had never sought out vampires, or other foes, but when they confronted me, it seems I had a talent for killing them, before they had a chance to kill me.

“Okay, maybe I’m a little predatory,” I admitted.

Then Buffy let out a booming, mirthful laugh and shouted, “Join me, Lady Willow! Join me, Sir Rupert! Join me, one and all, and tonight we hunt the minions of Dovregubben!!!”

Elisedd and Giles agreed to join almost immediately. Agent Mulder took a few more seconds to agree to joining, but eventually we all accepted Buffy’s invitation to join the Wild Hunt.

Once we all agreed, we were transformed in a manner somewhat similar to Buffy’s transformation. Agent Mulder instantly became taller and became decked out in leather and chainmail. Giles became taller and became decked out in leather and chainmail.

I became taller and became decked out in leather and chainmail.

Suddenly, there was a presence in my head, a practitioner of magic, that had ridden with the Wild Hunt before, a being who had hunted trolls and goblins before, a being who understood the creatures, and the traditions of the faerie.

It was weird. I was basically two beings at the same time. I was Willow Rosenberg, but I was somebody else too. I was hoping this merging of personalities didn’t last too long. I could probably handle this if it only lasted a short period of time, however, in the long term, reconciling two different sets of memories, and two different sets of preferences and emotions and biases, would probably drive me insane.

Oh, God! Was Buffy going through this too? I hoped she didn’t suffer any psychological damage! And what about Giles, and Agent Mulder? What sort of grab-bag of psychological problems were they having to deal with?

The bull-men transformed into bulls with saddles. The goat-men transformed into massive goats with saddles. The goats changed in size as well as shape. When they became quadrupeds, they grew in size, becoming as large as quarter horses. 

Everybody picked a steed to ride. The lord of the Wild Hunt chose a giant bull. I chose a giant goat, and our leader rode off after her prey with impressive speed, and a deafening thunder of hooves. The rest of us followed her on steeds that were just as loud and just as fast.

“Where are we going?” I called out, and I realized that my voice didn’t sound like my voice anymore. The voice that came out of my throat sounded rough, demanding and passionate. It sounded like the voice of a strong and self-confident warrior.

“We’re going to the abandoned zoo,” the lord of the Wild Hunt called back, “The minions of Dovregubben have ensconced themselves there!”

This was definitely a mixing of Buffy and the lord of the Wild Hunt in the same body. Buffy knew the location of Sunnydale’s abandoned zoo, however she never used words like ensconce. She didn’t even know the meaning of the words like ensconce. Buffy and the lord of the Wild Hunt were sharing the same brain, and I wasn’t sure how happy I was about that. Mixing brains together sounded like the sort of thing that could cause a lot of psychological damage.

Sunnydale’s abandoned zoo was something that the lord of the Wild Hunt wouldn’t have known about, but Buffy would. It had gone bankrupt back in 1998, and was now owned by the Bank of Southern California. Multiple attempts to sell the land had failed, and now the old abandoned zoo was a place where high school kids went to engage in underage drinking, have make out parties or indulge in drugs like ecstasy.

Although, probably not tonight, not if scores of trolls had turned the place into their secret lair. 

As the sun went down, Buffy/the lord of the Wild Hunt led us through Wilkins Park. Wilkins Park wasn’t really designed for hooved quadrupeds to race through at full-gallop, but we were at a point where we didn’t care about social conventions. We were just making up our own rules as we went along.

As we galloped through Wilkins Park, we noticed three vampires chasing after a teenage female. Now, Buffy’s normal reaction to seeing predatory vampires in Sunnydale was to drive a wooden stake through their hearts, however, the lord of the Wild Hunt did things a little bit differently.

The lord of the Wild Hunt charged down the field, forced her steed in between the vampires and the female and then brought her bovine steed to a full stop. The she unsheathed her sword and pointed it threateningly at the vampires.

“Join or die, hemophages” the lord of the Wild Hunt insisted.

The vampires looked confused.

Then another rider pulled up alongside the lord of the Wild Hunt, and in a manly voice that sounded a lot like Giles, the rider said, “Vampires, ride with us, or you die.”

It didn’t take the vampires long to decide.

Using similar tactics, we managed to recruit twelve more vampires to join the Wild Hunt. We also pressured six Serparvo demons, eight Polgara demons, ten Lei-Ach demons, six Fyarl demons and seven Rapax demons into joining. Much to my surprise, we also managed to recruit one of the bouncers at Eye Candy, a woman named Marianne. I'm not entirely certain what Marianne is, but she isn't human. She's as strong as a vampire, but she still casts a reflection, and she can go out into the sunlight without bursting into flames. Whatever she is, she's way stronger than any normal human being. 

Also, something that looked very much like a Rottweiler decided to join us, and followed us wherever we rode. However, there was no way this was a real canine from our reality. For one thing it must have weighed over 900 pounds, and was easily the size of a horse.

My guess was that it was some sort of hellhound.

By the time we had reached the abandoned Sunnydale zoo, we must have had about fifty predators on our side.

“Our prey is in there,” shouted the lord of the Wild Hunt as we closed in on the old Sunnydale Zoo, “Prepare to destroy them!!”

Now, when the high school kids hung out at the old Sunnydale Zoo, they gained entrance by squeezing through the gap where the chain-link fence had been sliced up years ago. I had somehow assumed that the riders of the Wild Hunt would do the same thing.

The lord of the Wild Hunt had other ideas. She urged her steed to gallop faster as she approached the front gate, and then her bull leaped over the gate.

The gate was about seven-feet tall, and I gasped in amazement at that incredible leap, and then the creature I was riding sped up and jumped over the gate as well.

“No way,” I exclaimed as hooves smashed down on pavement, and my steed landed on the other side of the seven-foot tall barrier.

“Our prey is here,” the lord of the Wild Hunt insisted, not willing to let me take time to gape in awe at that amazing jump, “Find them and destroy them!!”

We were making a ton of noise as we fanned out and searched for Dovregubben’s thugs. An ambush was out of the question. They certainly knew we were there, what with all the noise we were making.

We split into three groups. The lord of the Wild Hunt led one group, Giles led the second group, and Agent Mulder led the third group.

I ended up in Agent Mulder’s group, which I thought was odd. If Buffy weren’t merged with one of the oldest and deadliest beings of Faerie, I’m sure she would have insisted that I be included in her group. However, the Lord of the Wild Hunt had different priorities than my girlfriend.

Agent Mulder was wearing a chainmail shirt, and a battle helm and carrying a shield that looked like it was made during the tenth century, but he still carried his semi-automatic handgun in his right hand. It seemed out of place for him to have a modern weapon. Everybody else was carrying swords, spears and other primitive weapons. Wasn’t there some sort of Wild Hunt rule that forbade the use of any weapons invented after the Crusades?

“Over here,” Agent Mulder called out, “I found someone!”

I didn’t so much ride my goat, as I just remained seated in the saddle and allowed it to follow the sound of Mulder’s voice. I didn’t really know anything about riding, but the body I was currently inhabiting seemed to get it, and the goat I was riding was part of the Wild Hunt, and would do whatever the leaders of the Wild Hunt wanted. I didn’t really have to give the goat orders. It went wherever the Hunt went.

And where it went, was to a habitat that had once lions, or some sort of big cats. There were no longer any animals inside, and all of the bars had been smashed or bent out of the way, however, we had discovered a trio of trolls.

I had never been educated on what trolls looked like, but the being from the Faerie that I was merged with knew all about trolls. He (or she) had killed plenty of trolls, and knew what they looked like, smelled like and fought like. These big, ugly guys were trolls. 

They were each about seven-feet tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, with arms as thick as tree-trunks. Their faces were ugly, with uneven teeth, heavy brows, wide noses, and dull, belligerent eyes, that seemed to broadcast crude emotions and malignant intent. 

One of them was wearing a crude, leather loincloth, the other two were naked. 

I swear, if I hadn’t already given up on men, the sight of these ugly, slack-jawed, unkept, filthy, detestable thugs swaggering around, bare-ass naked would probably have been enough to turn me off from men forever. They were disgusting in a way that I didn’t even know was possible.

“They’re armed,” one of the people in my group called out, and almost simultaneously I noticed one of them swinging a long chain over his head, with a spiked-ball attached to the end.

Wielding a weapon like that couldn’t be easy. A metal ball at the end of a long chain wouldn’t be easy to control. It would take a lot of time, training and hand-eye coordination to control a weapon like that, and make the metal ball go where you want it to go. It would be easy to lose control of an ungainly weapon like that.

Instead of losing control, the troll swung his chain-weapon wide, and his spiked ball hit one of my Wild Hunt Partners in the face, causing a spray of blood, and knocking him off his goat. His helmet stayed on, so his skull wasn’t crushed, but even with head protection, getting hit with a spiked, metal ball like that had to hurt.

Somebody in my group called out, “Destroy them,” and then we counterattacked.

Now, trolls are huge, but when you’re riding goats that are the size of quarter-horses, trampling them is always an option. And these goats seemed to be battle-ready. They charged into battle with an eagerness that made me wonder if giant-goats had some sort of ancient traditional animosity towards trolls. I mean, the Three Billy Goats Gruff was just a Grimm Brother Fairy Tale, but maybe it was based on a true story.

The trolls were tough, and they fought vigorously, but when it was all over, the trolls had broken arms and crushed skulls, while the giant goats seemed to be unscathed.

“There’s got to be more here,” Agent Mulder called out, “Keep searching!”

We galloped through the zoo, and Agent Mulder turned out to be right. There were definitely more than just three trolls there.

When the Sunnydale Zoo was still a going concern, the howler monkey exhibit was the least popular location in the entire zoo. Those things were just too loud and annoying. And because the howler monkeys were so unpopular, they were located way in the back. That’s where we found most of the trolls, way in the back.

When my group got there, at least a dozen trolls were already dead. The ones that were alive had morning stars, flails and cudgels. The trolls were bigger than any of the vampires, demons or humans that we had on our teams, but the Wild Hunt had enthusiasm and a passionate zeal on its side. We refused to be intimidated by the size of our opponents. Somehow being part of the Wild Hunt gave us more confidence and more spirit. No matter how the odds we stacked against us, we felt as if we were guaranteed a win.

I saw a troll smash a vampire in the head with a cudgel. There was a crunching sound, a spray of blood, and the vampire went down, but instead of being intimidated by the sight of a massive troll striking down one of our fighters, another vampire jumped on the troll, joined by four Serparvo demons. Using teamwork and overzealous, brutal violence, the guys on my team quickly beat the troll to death. 

Trolls were large, but the predators of the Wild Hunt were brutal and determined. They would never back down. They’d keep fighting until they were either dead, or victorious.

I could see why all the monarchs of the faerie wanted those Gauntlets.

“Charge,” screamed Agent Mulder, and his troops charged directly into the trolls. I was mostly a spell-caster, so I remained in the back of the group, while the frontline fighters vigorously assaulted the trolls. Agent Mulder still had his handgun, and when one of the trolls swung his morning star in preparation for an attack, Agent Mulder shot it in the head. 

Bullets were great for killing trolls, especially if you had excellent marksmanship, however there were a lot of trolls, and Mulder didn’t have a great deal of bullets. Most of this battle was going to be fought with primitive weaponry.

As the lord of the Wild Hunt, Buffy was now more than eight feet tall, and she smashed into the trolls like a bull smashing into a display case of Waterford crystal.

Trolls were beheaded, gutted and impaled. Screaming and bloodshed followed the lord of the Wild Hunt everywhere she went. Trolls are huge, but so was the lord of the Wild Hunt, and they couldn’t match her for strength or viciousness. That massive sword of hers cut through muscle and bone, like she was cutting through butter. And while a lot of the trolls wore breastplates, and segmented armor, her sword cut through those too.

The lord of the Wild Hunt seemed to be invincible, and our victory seemed assured.

Yeah, I know. Whenever it looks like an easy victory is in your grasp, you’ve probably overlooked an important detail somewhere.

It came from out of the sky, held aloft on massive wings that must have stretched sixty feet from end to end. It looked reptilian, but not really like any reptile I’d ever seen before. The shape of the head was similar in some ways to a snake or a Komodo Dragon, although the size was far larger than either. It had a long snakelike neck and a long snakelike tail, and from its nose to the tip of its tail, was probably about forty feet long.

It had claws, that strongly resembled the claws of a water monitor in shape, however they were much greater in size. You could probably grab a full-grown human, and crush their ribcage with claws that huge. 

It took my brain a few seconds to realize I was seeing a dragon flying above the city of Sunnydale, and it was huge!

My brain tried to calculate how much something that huge would weigh. I came up with a conservative estimate of ten thousand pounds, and yet it was flying! How could something that big, and that heavy actually fly?

Nobody else in my group had noticed it yet. There was an almighty massive dragon on an intercept course with us, and nobody else had noticed it, so I pointed up into the sky, and in a rough cry of alarm, shouted, “Dragon!”

Everybody stopped what they were doing and looked up. Somewhere in the mass of bloodshed, corpses and warriors, I heard a very British voice exclaim, “Bloody hell!”

The dragon swooped down gracefully, much more gracefully than something that heavy should be able to swoop. The thing was about the size of a school bus, and had to weigh at least five tons, and yet it glided with the skill and grace of an eagle. How did it do that?

“This isn’t right,” I heard someone complain, “Dragons hate trolls! Dragons hate all of the other races! How could the trolls recruit a dragon for their schemes?”

The question was rhetorical. There was no way we could successfully interrogate a dragon. 

Somebody shouted, “Kill it”, and our archers immediately began to fire arrows and crossbow bolts at the dragon. Marianne produced a handgun and fired several rounds of high-caliber ammo at the massive, winged lizard.

Metal projectiles and wooden crossbow bolts just bounced off the dragon’s hide. It was like we were shooting at an armored car. I had never seen a dragon before, but apparently, they were very tough, much tougher than trolls.

When it landed, vampires, Serparvo demons, Polgara demons, Lei-Ach demons, Fyarl demons and Rapax demons all rushed the dragon. They were fearless in the face of a much larger opponent, and I actually felt a certain amount of respect for them. They seemed fearless and kind of heroic in this battle.

 

And then, the dragon opened its massive jaws wide, and a lance of blue-white flame erupted directly into the charging demons and vampires. I could feel the intense heat of the dragon’s flame, even though I was standing more than thirty yards away.

The vampires were incinerated almost instantly. The Polgara demons, Rapax demons, Fyarl demons, and Lei-Ach demons lasted slightly longer. They had time to scream before they died, but the white-hot flames still killed them.

The Serparvo demons didn’t die. Apparently, they’re impervious to fire. I was surprised to find that out. Their clothing and weapons were burnt to a crisp, but the Serparvo demons were alive and kicking.

Unfortunately, the Serparvo demons were utterly ineffective at killing the dragon. They rushed the dragon and attempted to kill it with their bare hands and their impressively long, sharp fangs, however, their attacks didn’t accomplish anything other than distract the dragon and make certain he was annoyed.

The Hellhound attempted to attack the dragon from the rear, however the dragon neutralized the hellhound with one swift flick of its long, mighty tail. One moment the Hellhound was galloping toward the dragon’s haunches and barking menacingly. Then there was a swish of the dragon’s powerful tail, the sound of a meaty impact, and suddenly the Hellhound was helplessly flying through the air. 

“You fight valiantly, little demons,” the lord of the Wild Hunt bellowed, “but the dragon is too imposing a beast for the likes of you! To slay a dragon requires a warrior of immense size and prodigious strength!”

The lord of the Wild Hunt proceeded to charge the dragon, and I was so hoping that she would take that massive sword and cleave the dragon’s skull in two, but it didn’t work out that way. Cutting through the dragon’s hide, was like cutting through a brick wall. The sound of the impacts reverberated across the entire area whenever her sword smashed into the dragon’s thick hide, however the sword just couldn’t slice the dragon open. The best she could do was make the dragon flinch or stagger back slightly.

And then, the dragon opened its mighty jaws and another column of white-hot flame burst forth. I screamed, and feared the worst as the lord of the Wild Hunt was consumed in the sort of heat normally found in a crucible furnace. It didn’t seem very likely that she could have survived a merciless inferno like that.

Then, much to my surprise, she marched determinedly from the dwindling flames, and angrily punched the dragon in the nose.

I let out a victory cheer when I realized she wasn’t dead. Apparently, the lord of the Wild Hunt was imperious to fire too.

My joy was short-lived however, as the dragon had other means of attack besides fire. The dragon picked up Buffy in one of its massive claws and flapped its mighty wings, taking it up into the air. When it reached a height of about thirty feet, it came crashing back down, smashing the lord of the Wild Hunt mercilessly into the ground.

That had to hurt.

It wasn’t fatal, but if the dragon continued to smash Buffy into the ground over and over again, it might eventually kill her, especially if the dragon decided to do it from a much greater height.

“There may be a way to kill the dragon.”

At first I had no idea where those words came from. I looked around, and there was nobody near me.

“I have studied dragons a great deal,” the voice continued, “I have some unique insights into how they might be put to death.”

“Am I going crazy?” I asked, and watched as the dragon smashed the lord of the Wild Hunt into the ground once more.

“I am no expert on lunacy,” the voice responded, “however, I believe that your mind is healthy enough. I do suggest you listen to me, and heed my advice on how to kill the dragon.”

It slowly dawned upon me that the voice I was hearing was the voice of the person whose body I was sharing. She was centuries old and knew far more about dragons than I did. I decided to stop asking stupid questions and listen to her.

According to her, dragons didn’t so much breathe fire, as they vomited up chemicals that are highly combustible.

Apparently, dragons have four stomachs. Each stomach contains different chemicals. If the dragon vomits up chemicals from all four stomachs, in the proper ratios, and times it just right, they’ll react and ignite just as they leave the dragon’s mouth. It’s a very tricky balancing act, and dragons that don’t master the proper mixing of chemicals at a very young age, never live long enough to become adult dragons.

I was sharing a body with a magic-practitioner who knew a spell that might cause a horrible imbalance in the dragon’s stomachs. It was the sort of spell that would cause a human to become nauseated, have a horrible stomach-ache, acid reflux and vomiting.

In a dragon, it might do much worse things.

The Serparvo demons continued to attack the dragon while I readied my spell. That was good, as it kept the dragon distracted, and meant it couldn’t focus its full attention on Buffy. I concentrated, and tried to mouth the proper words to make the spell work.

It was complicated, and I don’t remember it all, but I’m certain the spell was in some sort of Elvish language. My mouth was forced to say things like, “Stamag diadhaidh! Stamag losgadh!” and, “Stamag sgaoileadh!”

That’s not Latin. That’s not any language I’ve ever run across before. I’m pretty sure that’s a language from the faerie realm.

At first, I wasn’t sure if my spell had done anything. But then the dragon stopped attempting to crush Buffy, it stopped attempting to crush the Serparvo demons, and jerked its head up, with a look of horror on its reptilian face, and even though I was thirty yards away, I could hear the ominous sounds of chemicals sloshing around the dragon’s gastrointestinal system with mad abandon.

The dragon opened its mouth wide and began to pant loudly. Its tail twitched back and forth wildly, and its eyes widened in panic. The dragon looked worried, and if it had been human; instead of a massive reptile, I’m sure it would have been sweating profusely. 

“Skeito,” I cried out and raised my hand in a mystic gesture a split-second before the dragon exploded.

An invisible shield of mystical energies sprang up before me, and when the dragon exploded in an eruption of blood, bile, digestive acids and bits of ruptured muscle tissue, my shield protected me from being splattered.

The shield spell I had just cast wasn’t one of my spells, it was a spell that had been mastered by the faerie practitioner that I had merged with. Our bond was getting stronger, and I could access her memories and skill-sets much more easily now. 

Part of me thought that that was cool. Another part of me thought that if we remained merged much longer, it would be hard to tell where I ended and where the faerie began. We were getting far too comfortable being merged together, and if we didn’t separate soon, we might be stuck together forever.

I enjoyed the additional mystic knowledge that came with the merging, but I was not a warrior of the faerie realms. I was Willow Rosenberg, I was a college freshman, I was a computer science major, and I was seriously in love with Buffy Summers!

If I stayed merged with the Sidhe spell-caster, I was going to lose all that.

The lord of the Wild Hunt picked herself up and began to wipe dragon viscera off her clothes. She was very nearly covered in the stuff. I walked over to her and said, “Buffy, the battle is over. You can take the Gauntlets off now.”

“Over?” she inquired, “The Wild Hunt can never be over! There is still plenty of prey that can be hunted in this town! Just think of it! Vampires, demons and lurkers shall be our prey! We shall hunt prey all across the Hellmouth forever and ever!! Century after century, Lady Willow and the lord of the Wild Hunt! We slay anything that lurks or prowls the dark shadows of Sunnydale! The Wild Hunt need NEVER stop!”

A part of me thought that this sounded like a really cool idea. A part of me was really excited about the Wild Hunt never ending. The Wild Hunt was mighty and undefeated. We would be feared, and the sound of our thundering hooves approaching would cause all potential prey to panic and hide from us.

However, another part of me was horrified. I was an American teenager, who enjoyed snuggles with my girlfriend, shoe-shopping at the Sunnydale Mall, and defragging the hard-drive on my computer. I loved spending time with Xander, Buffy, Tara and other American teenagers. I wasn’t going to give all of that up, just so I could engage in an endless adventure of killing things.

Even though I was wearing leather and chainmail, I still seemed to have pockets. I reached into one of them and pulled out a long, black feather. I gave it a brief look, and then I said, “Hypnos.”

Hypnos was a powerful, godlike immortal that I had helped out once. He had been captured by a duo of evil wizards, and I had helped him to escape. He owed me a favor, and I decided this was the right time to call it in.

 

Hypnos appeared a second later. He didn’t look at all the way you’d expect a powerful, godlike immortal to look. He was thousands of years old, and very nearly unkillable, yet he looked like an adorable, somewhat effeminate sixteen-year old boy.

“Willow Rosenberg,” he said in that sweet, soothing, magical voice of his, “your physical appearance has changed since we last met.”

“Yeah, I got taller,” I responded. 

“And you appear to be dressed for war,” he added, noticing my chainmail shirt and the weapons belt strapped around my waist, “Is there an enemy you need my assistance in overcoming?”

It suddenly occurred to me that I could have called upon Hypnos earlier. If I had done that, I could have had him locate the Gauntlets of the Huntsman and remove them Sunnydale before anybody got hurt. That was a missed opportunity.

Suddenly, the lord of the Wild Hunt burst into good cheer and said, “Hypnos, god of dreams! Excellent! You can enter into the dreams of warriors and inspire them to come to Sunnydale and join in the Wild Hunt! With your help, the Wild Hunt can be greater than ever before!!”

Hypnos turned to me and asked, “Willow Rosenberg, is this what you wish of me?”

“Actually, I’m kind of sick of the Wild Hunt,” I admitted, “I’d like you to take the Gauntlets of the Huntsman away from her, and take them far, far away from Sunnydale, so that none of us will ever see them again.”

“What?” the lord of the Wild Hunt said, sounding grossly offended, “I am not some misbehaving child to have my belongings taken away from me! I am an ancient and powerful- “

And then, the lord of the Wild Hunt collapsed onto the ground, and fell fast asleep.

“She will sleep for a time, Hypnos explained, “When she awakens, she will remember very little of the Wild Hunt. Her mind is not truly adapted for the sorts of thoughts that run through the mind of an ancient and godlike being of the faerie. Remembering too much of the time she spent merged with a being like that could cause permanent damage to her mind.”

“Thanks,” I said, “I appreciate that.”

Then, he removed the Gauntlets from her hands, and she was no longer eight feet tall, and wearing battle-armor. She was five feet, four and wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt. 

A few seconds later, I realized I wasn’t wearing battle armor anymore either. I had shrunk back to my regular size and was once again wearing my regular clothing.

“Where will you be taking the Gauntlets?” I asked.

“Far, far away,” Hypnos responded, “I know of places far from Sunnydale, where things can be lost and never found again,” and then he just faded away, and disappeared from our reality.

Agent Mulder made some sort of smartass remark about the land where things can be lost, but he said it so softly, I couldn’t make it all out. I think it had something to do with missing socks. 

With the battle over, the Serparvo demons looked confused. Mulder, Giles and Marianne stood over the sleeping form of Buffy, as if daring them to lay a finger on her. Under other circumstances they might have rushed my friends and tried to kill Buffy, but these circumstances weren’t ordinary.

“What are those things?” Agent Mulder asked.

“Serparvo demons,” Giles replied, “They’re very resilient, almost impossible to kill. If you stab or shoot them, they recover from their wounds almost instantly. The only way to kill them, is to drown them.”

Giles and Agent Mulder both glanced in the direction of the tiger habitat. There were no tigers in it, however there was a huge moat, just filled with thousands of gallons of water. If we were going to get into it with the Serparvo demons, that would be the best place to do it.

The Serparvo demons seemed to understand every word Giles and Mulder said, and they didn’t seem comfortable with how knowledgeable Giles and Mulder were about their strengths and vulnerabilities. The entire group of demons wandered away, giving wary glances in our direction every few seconds as they exited the zoo.

“This is quite a town you’ve got here,” Agent Mulder said after the demons were gone.

“You have no idea,” Giles replied, with typical British stoicism.

“You know, I have some vacation time coming up in October,” Mulder said, “I might just want to spend it here.”

“Sunnydale isn’t really the sort of place where people go to relax on their days off,” I replied.

“Normal people tend to avoid this town whenever possible,” Marianne added.

“I’m not exactly normal,” Mulder confessed, “I track down paranormal oddities for fun. That’s sort of my main deal in life.”

“Oh well, you should enjoy your time here then,” Marianne admitted, “What week in October were you planning on coming back?”

“The ninth through the thirteenth,” Mulder replied.

“I might just take that week off from work too,” Marianne said, “Your chances of surviving a week in Sunnydale would be better if you had a tour guide.”

I blinked several times at Marianne’s comment. Was she flirting with Agent Mulder? When Buffy and I flirted, we were a lot more adorable than this, but Marianne was way older than I was. Maybe people in her age group flirted differently than teenagers.

“If I had your phone number, I could give you a call after I’ve made my travel arrangements,” Mulder said, “I could let you know when my flight is coming in.”

It didn’t sound very romantic; however, Fox Mulder and Marianne Krieger were both way older than I was. They were both about Giles’s age, and I’m guessing had a completely different language than teenagers like me and Buffy. I’m pretty sure this was flirting for people in Agent Mulder’s age group. 

* * *

Eventually Buffy woke up. She barely remembered anything about being merged with the lord of the Wild Hunt. She seemed to return to normal (or what qualifies for normal here in Sunnydale), and she resumed her life of going to class, studying for tests, hanging out at the Bronze, going shoe-shopping at the mall, and having sex and smoochies with me.

Anexeana died in combat with the trolls. Agent Mulder called an ambulance and had her body taken to the morgue. Her glamour was still in effect, even though she was dead and cold. The FBI was utterly confused by her corpse, as it was a perfect match for Maggie Walsh, who was still very much alive. Anexeana even had fingerprints that were utterly identical to Maggie Walsh’s fingerprints. 

Elisedd also died in combat, which meant that Giles’s debt to Elisedd had died as well. With Elisedd dead, Giles no longer owed anything to any of the denizens of the faerie.

The dragon incinerated most of the evidence of demons, vampires and other paranormal stuff here in Sunnydale, which meant that Agent Mulder wasn’t believed when he filed an FBI report, claiming that he had seen trolls, demons and vampires here in Sunnydale. The corpse of the Scuttleomorph mysteriously disappeared from Giles’s apartment, and the corpse of the dragon mysteriously disappeared from the old abandoned zoo. Giles thinks that somebody was deliberately going around and disposing of evidence, but he has no idea who would be doing such a thing, or why.

Before he went back to Washington DC, Agent Mulder suggested that I write down some of my paranormal experiences here in Sunnydale, and post them on the internet. At first, I thought this was a crazy idea. I told Agent Mulder that the people on the internet don’t want to read about disturbing truths, they want to read about comforting lies.

However, Agent Mulder thinks that there are people out there who are dying to know about my story, and will gobble up every word of it. Maybe he’s right. Maybe people want to know about the Hellmouth, and the people who try to survive here.

Is he right? Is there anybody out there? Is there anybody reading my story?


End file.
